Sleep
by AllItTakes
Summary: Sleep never came easily for her. But perhaps that was why she sensed an intruder at her door seconds before she heard the faint click of her front door unlocking.
1. 2 am

For those of you waiting on my CSI:NY story, don't worry, I haven't given up on it. I just needed to get this one out there!

Sleep never came easily for her.

Katherine Beckett was lying alone in bed, eyes closed and body relaxed. She was asleep, for all intents and purposes, but her senses continued to remain highly tuned to the night time sounds around her – an inevitable result of her profession as an NYPD homicide detective. She had seen too much of the gray shades of humanity and gotten herself into too much danger over a course of a relatively short period of time to willfully let her guard down. Perhaps it was for this reason – or possibly it was because of an intuition inside of her, something that invoked her irrational sleeping schedules that all cops obtain – that her instinct raised its hackles and her stomach knotted before she even heard the almost inaudible click of her front door unlocking.

Her hazel eyes shot open in the darkness and she registered everything in an instant: the careful creak as her front door was pried open, the thumping footsteps belonging to a person who was moving quickly and quietly, the whispers of cautious breathing of her intruder as he or she advanced past her kitchen and into her living room.

The wood of her bedside drawer slid soundlessly as she drew out a gleaming .9 millimeter Glock, the standard weapon issued to all NYPD detectives. Sheets were pulled back as she ghosted out of her bedroom, her hand wrapped firmly around the handle of her gun, resting by her side. Leaning her back against the cool, beige colored wall of the hallway, she felt the cold from leaving her bed tingle her spine and bare shoulders, making her slightly shiver as the drafts from the air conditioning wormed its way through her tank top and sweatpants.

She could see her intruder now. A dark silhouette juxtaposed against the dim outlines of her living room furniture. He was standing straight in the middle of the room, glancing around with a confident, almost cocky air. If it wasn't for the sudden, ringing strike of the hammer clicking against the barrel, he would never have noticed her presence. He whipped around; his back muscles tensed and arms raised above his head in a surrendering motion.

"Don't shoot! It's me!" implored a voice that she recognized immediately – a voice that managed to unhinge her in seconds. It was only voice that could verbally spar with her and win.

"Castle!"

In an instant, she had put aside her weapon and flew into his arms, twining her arms around his neck like climbing ivy and pulling him tightly towards her. She was hugging him so forcefully he couldn't breathe. Not that he was complaining – he was embracing her just as tightly. Castle closed his eyes and crushed her against him, breathing in the drugging smell of her cherry scented shampoo, relishing the feel of her body pressed up against his.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Phoenix!" she exclaimed, drawing back slightly to hold him at arm's length, her hands wrapped around his biceps.

"I just got back an hour ago." Castle gave her that charming, boyish grin that would stop half the female population in their tracks, hoping that, for the first time, it would work its magic on her. Kate merely lifted up an elegant eyebrow.

"I wanted to surprise you." He shrugged, causing his partner to cross her arms reproachfully and tilt her head in amusement.

"You do realize it's two in the morning," she mentioned.

He lifted his arms in a weak attempt at a theatrical flourish. "Surprise!"

She rolled her hazel eyes in vexation but a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "I gave you that key for emergencies."

"This is an emergency," he said solemnly, sobering up. "I wanted to see you."

She softened, her body language signaling a soft gentleness rather than am exasperated annoyance. "I wanted to see you, too," she said, sincerity shining through her words.

This time it was Castle who leaned forward and embraced her, folding her into his arms as easily as if their bodies had grown used to each other. She fitting her head in the crook of his neck, smelling the airport spritz of cologne on his blue button-down. She's missed him. More than she wants to admit.

"How're the others?" Castle asked, both of them pulling back from each other but still relatively close.

"They're all doing fine," she reassured him. "What about you?" She has noticed the shadows brushing under his eyes like currents and the way his words dripped with lethargy.

"Fine. Jetlagged, but fine." He sat down on her couch and fought the way his head leaned toward the plush arm of the furniture, attempting to ignore try how restful it would feel to have the supple support of a pillow snug against his head.

Kate began walking toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee?"

"Do you have any beer?"

She smiled and pulled out two beers from her nearly empty fridge. She was absolutely hopeless on stocking her fridge with the necessary fruits and vegetables for a healthy meal but since she was used to eating a quick bear claw and protein bar as a lunch, she had given up on the idyllic concept of three home-made meals a day long ago. She did, however, ensure that she had at least some kind of drink stashed, no matter how deserted her fridge was. A bad habit but a necessary one.

"Here you go," Kate sat next to him, legs crossed, as she handed over a Samuel Adams. They both popped the cap and she watched as he took a long swig from the green tinted bottle.

"How was the book tour?"

Castle leaned back and propped up his legs on her coffee table. "Tiring. St. Louis was humid so I was sweating all day. Phoenix was miserable. The thermometer was set to 'hell' the whole time," he joked, eliciting a laugh from Beckett.

She studied him from the corner of her eye, noticing how he was struggling to contain a yawn and look alert at the same time, how he was trying to rub the sleep off his face for the sake of having a conversation with her. She set down her drink and beckoned him over, patting her lap. "Come here."

Castle crawled towards her and laid down his head on her lap, his muscular frame too tall for her couch, making his feet dangle at the end. She brushed a strand of dark hair away from his eyes, her fingers sleeking over his skin like waterfalls.

"You're being awfully accommodating." Castle murmured, his breath leaving his body in a soft whoosh.

"Thought I'd cut you a break," she smirked, bending over his head so close that the ends of her chestnut curls brushed his skin.

He skimmed open an eyelid, gazing at her with such contentment she almost looked away. She didn't deserve him but, damn it, if she wasn't willing to keep him.

"Anything happen while I was away?" Castle asked casually. "Get into any trouble?"

She hesitated. If he had been more alert, perhaps more awake, he would've noticed how her arms suddenly stiffened, how her back became tense, and how she took more time than necessary to answer his question. She opened her mouth but her throat seemed stuffed with cotton balls, unexpectedly dry and parched. How could she answer this seemingly innocent question without raising Castle's concern? How could she answer at all?

_Three weeks ago_

_The wound was deep, spurting blood that stained her fingers and clothes a deep crimson. Placing a hand over it, she tried to quench the flow but it did no good to help the gaping tear in her abdomen. Blood dripped onto the carpet – thank god the color was a midnight blue, therefore undetectable once the blood set – as she used the walls of the apartment building to support her doubled over frame. _

_Her limbs felt leaden, almost paralyzed with shock and blood loss. Already, she could feel herself growing faint, losing control of her motor skills. It was taking all her effort to not collapse right there. The edges of her vision were tinged with red and her head was feeling light headed like she was under anesthesia._

_But she was almost there. Almost. She stumbled past the wood painted doors of the units until she finally came to her own. It took her four tries to insert the key into the lock because the ridged appliance kept slipping out of her fingers due to the blood matting them. Finally, she pushed through the door and crumpled onto the couch, breathing shallow and uncontrollable breaths because her lungs felt like they were disintegrating. With trembling fingers, she picked up her phone and dialed a familiar number._

"_Lanie?" She rasped out. Thank god she was on speed dial, she didn't think she could've handled dialing a ten digit number with her shaking hands._

"_Kate, is that you?" Lanie's voice sounded excessively loud to her ears, so much so that she closed her eyes and could feel sweat breaking out on her forehead._

"_Come. Please." She croaked. "I'm bleeding... stabbed…"_

_Lanie didn't waste a second. Within minutes, the ME was barging in through her door, wild eyed and looking worse for the wear from running the last five blocks in slippers. Although Lanie had come here as fast as she could, it had been an eternity to Kate. It seemed like forever until she heard the quick rhythm of footsteps stop outside her door._

"_Jesus," Lanie gasped, shocked from seeing one of her strongest friends bleeding like this. Her almond shaped eyes swept over her broken figure, the crimson blood pulsing through her fingers, her chest heaving from the struggle of breathing, her limbs quivering from pure exertion, the pallor marking her face. "What… how…?"_

"_No… hospital…" Kate choked out, anticipating Lanie's next comment. "I… won't make…it…"_

"_Kate, what do you want me to do?" Lanie cried dubiously, the shock of seeing her best friend like this setting in. She would bet her medical license that her friend was right; that Kate wouldn't make ten minutes into the car ride – she was bleeding out too fast – but that didn't mean she could save Kate's life right here. "Without proper treatment, you're going to bleed out –" _

"_Sewing kit," Kate interrupted, inhaling a shaky breath before closing her eyes. "Get a sewing kit. Some rubbing alcohol, too."_

"_Kate," her voice was hushed with realization that she might have to give stitches, perhaps even perform surgery right here, right now. "Are you sure –"_

"_Go!"_

_It took Lanie only seconds to find what she needed before organizing her measly tools on the coffee table next to her. Then she gently pried Kate's hands off the wound and peeled back the blood soaked shirt. She gasped. The wound was deep, a puckered gash with an outline of dried blood around it. So much blood._

"_What happened?" _

_This was the part she hated. The lying part. But she had to. Maddox had threatened to take out her friends if she told anyone and she wasn't going to let them die for her sake._

"_Mugged. I-I got mugged." A simple lie that didn't come naturally to her. She had never lied to Lanie, her best friend. Maybe withheld the truth from her on some occasions but never outright lied. "I was… on my way to my car when… someone came and stabbed me. He-he took my wallet."_

"_Are you going to file charges?" The concern in Lanie's voice rang purely like church bells. _

"_No." Her cheek twitched as she realized the irony of her chosen lie. A cop getting mugged. Geez, Castle would have a field day with that one. "I just want this to be over." _

_Lanie nodded in understanding, noticing for the first time the dark shadow on her friend's cheek that guaranteed a nice bruise in the morning once the tissue had time to bleed, the shallow cut that lined her from the edge of her jaw to her chin, the blood from a scalp laceration matting her hair. Lanie hid a smile. Kate had never been one to go down without a fight. _

"_Hold on. This is going to hurt." Lanie poured the contents of a bottle containing rubbing alcohol onto her wound. Kate choked back the scream the rose in a torrent to her lips as the cavity in her torso seared like a branding iron._

"_Do it quick." Kate used as few words as possible to preserve her energy, the white-hot pain in her side blistering as her sense of urgency doubled. "Make it quick."_

"_Hold on, then." Lanie lit a match and passed a needle through it several times, sterilizing it. "You've got nine lives, girl. The knife missed any major organs." _

_She said nothing but instead watched as the ME threaded the needle and held it inches away from her wound with one hand. With the other, she handed Kate a throw pillow to bite down on. "Knife wound," Lanie murmured. "Did you fight him? The mugger, I mean."_

"_Yeah…" Kate gripped the edge of the cushion in pain. "But I couldn't… hold him off… haven't slept in three days… living on fumes…" That part was true, she really had been living off of coffee and granola bars because of the mass influx of cases that always accompanied the holidays. It was three weeks till Thanksgiving but already the number of murders was steadily rising. She had stayed behind after the others to finish off some paperwork. A nearly fatal mistake, she realized now._

"_Make sure to go to the hospital after this," Lanie reminded her. The ME plunged the needle in and Kate gasped as a knife hot pain gutted her from the inside out. "Didn't Gates tell you to go home?"_

"_Just wanted to wrap up a case," Kate wheezed out. She could feel Lanie probing the wound and it hurt like a bitch. She added for good measure, "Castle was right."_

_Lanie washed out the wound with more alcohol and warm water and inquired, "Do you want me to call Castle? I'm sure he would cut his tour short –" _

"_No!" she cried out, a single word that hung in the air between them like a ghostly fingerprint. "It's not his fault… got mugged… my fault…" She stared up at the ceiling, already feeling her strength waning. "I'm not gonna… ruin his tour… I'm fine, anyway. Really…"_

_Lanie gazed at her best friend, sympathy and understand evident in her warm brown eyes. "Castle would take care of you. He would do anything for you."_

_Kate looked at her, eyes so full of pain and hurt. If she told anyone the truth of her attack, Maddox would kill them. She knew that as a fact. "Don't you think I know that?" _

Kate took a slow sip from her beer and then lowered it, feeling the weight of her words burn up her throat and tumble out of her mouth. "Nothing. Nothing happened at all."


	2. Secrets

Okay, to clear a few things up: This story is purely AU. I'm aware that Beckett never got stabbed by Maddox on the show. That's why it's fun to write about it. Oh, and I know the whole impromptu surgery thing is unlikely but just... bear with me. Trust me, it'll get better. And for the record, that whole going-behind-each-other's-back-to-investigate-her-mother's-murder-thing that went on in the show? Yeah, I'm not touching that with a ten foot pole. If you are wondering what season this takes place in, it's season 4-ish.

Also, if this hasn't been made clear yet, Castle and Beckett are not together yet. But they will be :)

For those of you that reviewed, followed or alerted, thank you to each and every one of you. Really. Now, on with the show!

* * *

Early morning sunlight streamed in through the dark curtains, illuminating the inside of Beckett's living room. Snoring on the couch was Castle, bare-chested and only wearing a pair of his boxer shorts. Castle groaned at the sunlight branding his eyelids and sleepily blinked. It was morning. He was half sprawled on Beckett's couch, a downy comforter pooled near his feet and a throw pillow fitted under the curve of his neck. He had to admit, Beckett had a very comfortable couch.

Speaking of Beckett…

He blinked his ocean blue eyes open, swinging his feet to the ground with a heavy thud, and wiped the sleep off his face with one hand. Glancing around, he appeared to be alone. He heard no sizzling of breakfast, or the pitter-patter of water in the bathroom, or the quiet rummages in the bedroom. A quick overview of the house confirmed his suspicions.

"Kate?" he called out. No answer. Just as he was starting to be slightly concerned – his thoughts immediately went to a scary kidnapping or a sudden bullet to the heart, thanks to his years as a volunteer assistant homicide detective – his eyes fell upon the yellow square Post-it note stuck to the kitchen counter.

_Castle,_

_We caught a case. By the time you wake up, we'll probably be at the precinct. Come by if you want but feel free to take the day off. _

_- Kate_

_P.S. – If you do come by, bring something to eat since there's nothing for breakfast and I'm starving._

A grin curved the corners of his mouth. Of course, she would be hungry. He didn't have to check to know her fridge was absolutely barren as a desert. Besides, they both knew he would come in.

It took him less than ten minutes to get dressed. His clothes were neatly folded on the coffee table in front of him, courtesy of Kate. He was buttoning up his shirt when it hit him – leaving Post-it notes for each other, leaving a small stack of folded clothes for him, bringing a meal in case the other got hungry? It felt… domestic. Like an old married couple. Strangely enough, the thought brought a smile to his face.

* * *

"Holy crap, if it isn't the ghost of Richard Castle!" Ryan pretended to fall off his chair as he grinned with delight. The familiar figure of certain famous writer entered the doors of the 12th Precinct. Esposito came to stand next to his partner, his Hispanic features expanding into a wide grin.

Javi clapped his hands together in a slow rhythm as Castle came closer. "The prodigal son comes back! Missed us?"

"Not particularity," Castle smirked as the two men stood staunchly in front of him.

"Oh, or course. You missed _Beckett_, right?" Ryan smiled cheekily at him.

"Of course he missed her." Esposito immediately picked up the line of teasing as he remarked innocently, "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you missed her so much, you broke into her apartment at two in the morning, is that right, Castle?"

"Hey, I didn't _break_ _in_.I had a key." Castle argued. "How did you know, anyway?"

"She just said that she didn't sleep very well because someone broke into her place in the middle of the night. We just thought, geez, who would stupid enough to break into a cop's place? Our first thought was you." Ryan shrugged modestly.

"I'm flattered you think so well of me."

Esposito stifled a grin. "Don't sweat it, bro. I think that's a _great_ way to pick up chicks."

Cue the sarcasm. First day back from a two month long book tour and he was already getting sweated out by the guys. Hoping to escape with some shred of his dignity left, he glanced around. "Where's Beckett?"

"She's in the break room." Esposito jerked his thumb over his shoulder where they could see the faint outline of Kate bending over the espresso machine, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Espo clapped him on the shoulder, fighting back a laugh. "Go get her, man."

Castle, clutching a paper bag of pastries as a tightly as a life line, knocked on the break room door and held his breath when she whirled around. It was worth it, he thought. It was worth it to endure all the teasing from the boys to see her hazel eyes light up with joy simply because of his presence.

"Hey." She said.

"Hey," he said, slightly unsure of what else to say. Every time she looked at him like that, shy and coy and a little bit eager, he was transported back to fifth grade when he'd had his first crush – a girl named Andrea Puget – and could barely stutter out a reply when she would ask him a question. Twenty years and countless number of women later, and he felt the same. Like she was his first crush.

The feeling only intensified as Kate moved closer to him, their fingers brushing as she took the bag of pastries from him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well." He watched as she dipped into the paper bag and pulled a sticky bear claw, licking the icing off her fingers before she took a bite. She sighed with pleasure and took another bite, this time not bothering to chew properly before she'd finished off the whole pastry.

"Hungry?"

"Just a bit," she said casually before taking a swig of her coffee then digging around in the bag for another pastry. "I forgot to ask you yesterday. How's Alexis and Martha doing?"

Castle lounged on the plush couch of the break room and smiled at the mention of his only daughter. "They're doing great. At least, that's what Alexis told me when she and I talked the other day. She and Mother are on a college trip."

"I remember doing that when I was her age." Kate sat down next to him, cradling her hot coffee in her hands. "I did it with my dad. The whole time, I was living on Wetzel's Pretzels and Ramen. Good times."

A loud laugh escaped him as he pictured a teenage version of Kate straggling along next to her father, living out of a suitcase. "Alexis seems to be having a nice time. She called me at the airport yesterday. Told me to sleep off my jet lag so that I don't do anything creepy and freak out the neighbors."

Kate took a gulp of her coffee. "She's right. Are you sure you don't want to sleep in today?"

"Sleep the day off or help solve a gruesome murder?" Castle raised both arms like a scale, lifting it up and down, and grinned. "Such a difficult choice."

That elicited a startled laugh out of her. "This is why I keep you around."

"Because of my roguish charm and razor-sharp wit?"

"Because you make my job fun."

He gazed at her, his ocean blue eyes steadfast and unwavering. "It's fun because I'm with you."

For a second, she didn't have an answer. She broke his gaze and looked down at the floor, studying the pattern of the carpet with unnecessary concentration. "That's really sweet," she murmured.

He simply nodded, looking casually at her before clearing his throat. "How's the case going?"

"We might have a lead on a potential suspect." Relieved at the change of topic, she motioned at their murder board. "Go look at the crime scene photos. I'll be over there as soon as I finish this," she gestured towards the bear claw held in her hand.

"Don't eat too fast." Castle left the room and headed over to their murder board. The second he departed, Kate stopped laughing and instead doubled over in pain.

The stab wound was only a couple weeks old so it still tended to throb with pain from time to time. Usually when she changed the dressing, the pain would fade but she had already changed it this morning. Lanie had done an excellent job but Kate was starting to worry about the risk of infection. She had never, after all, gone for a check-up to the hospital, purely because of the fear that Maddox would be waiting for her. A logical fear.

After her impromptu operation, Kate had sworn Lanie to secrecy. The ME had simply believed that Kate was too embarrassed to talk about her 'mugging' and had readily agreed to her wishes. But Kate knew the less people knew, the less the chances were of people finding out what really happened to her.

It killed her to lie to people like this, especially Castle, but she had to.

God, when he looked at her like that… her breath still hitched in remembrance.

She gingerly placed a hand on her abdomen, her fingers grazing over the gauze bandage. Inhaling and exhaling controlled breaths, she waited until the aching throb diminished to a dull twinge. Then she took an extra deep breath for good luck, pieced together her composure, and took another gulp of her espresso.

Esposito popped his head in. "Hey, you comin'? Irish might have a lead." Then he glanced at her strangely, noticing how her features appeared haggard and drained and how her hand was braced against the countertop with the other cradling her torso. "You okay, boss?"

She straightened up immediately. This was her secret. She had to keep it. "I'm fine."

She really had to get her lying under control.

* * *

This chapter was a lot more light hearted than the previous one. I was hoping to inject some humor into this story to balance out the gravity of the first one. As always, thank you for reading!


	3. Infection

Thank you, thank you so much for all your support. I never expected so much love from you guys. You guys are awesome. Seriously. You people mean the world to me.

Here it is!

* * *

The tension was thick in the air.

Three people glanced suspiciously at each other, as wary as alley cats circling each other. They clutched their cards even more protectively to their chests, concentrating on schooling their features into a blank poker face.

Dusk was just starting to fall, the growing shadows lighting the empty pizza box containers and beer bottles scattered on the break room table.

Castle suppressed a grin. He had to say, he'd been surprised when the guys had agreed to a poker game right after their shifts had ended but he was glad they had consented. Esposito had even invited Lanie, even though they had broken up months ago. Now, Castle was intent on taking them for all the money they're worth. "Raise $20."

Ryan wished he had more to concentrate on. But his hand was lousy and he was smart enough to know when to duck out. Annoyed, he threw down his cards and proclaimed, "That's it. I'm out."

Esposito stared at his own cards with the concentration of a neurosurgeon performing a brain surgery. Should he go for it? Deciding that his hand was too rotten to save, he shook his head. "Fold."

Castle whooped with delight and gleefully collected his winnings from the pot, cackling exaggeratedly like a mad scientist. He loved this part, seeing his coworkers cast disappointed looks at each other and groan with pouting lips. "Thanks, guys. It wasn't really much of a game though, was it?"

"Shut it, Castle." Esposito glared at him.

His grin stretched out even more. "Can I help it that you people are terrible at poker? Geez, I should be teaching a class at this."

"You know I can take you any day, Castle."

The voice was _hers. _Definitely amused. Definitely unexpected.

They all turned around to see the lithe figure of Kate Beckett striding into the break room, her heels making a staccato rhythm on the linoleum floor.

Esposito and Ryan immediately tried to hide the beer bottles behind their backs as their she lifted an eyebrow. She had noticed the empty bottles and food containers the second she had walked in.

They had wrapped up the case early and she – the selfless leader she was – had generously given the guys the rest of the day off, along with tomorrow. But clearly, they loved the precinct so much; they decided to remodel the break room into their man-cave. All in the spirit of justice, she was sure.

Seeing her raise an elegant eyebrow, Castle said hastily, "I thought you went home." He thought she looked different. Thinner, more ragged on the edges. She was working herself too hard again. But that hadn't taken away the coy look in her eyes, the one that made his heart skip a beat every time.

"I forgot my purse." Kate crossed over to her desk and bent over, feeling heat prick her cheeks when she felt _him_ staring at her from behind. She straightened up, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Make sure to take a cab home. It smells like a brewery here."

"Will do." They chorused, nodding like bobbleheads.

"Good." Kate made her way over to the elevator, turning her head over her shoulder. "Good night, Ryan, Javi." Her voice dropped slightly when she spoke suggestively, "Castle."

She bit down on her lower lip to stifle a smile. Sometimes it was fun to keep him wondering, to skitter around the subject but never outright breach it. It was a like a game, something they've been playing since the first day they've met. She pictured his face when she had said his name, a cross between surprise and desire that flashed in his eyes.

Then she pictured his face if he found out that she had been lying to him this whole time. Would he still want to flirt with her then?

Jeez, her mind just _had_ to beat her up.

God, it was killing her. The lie was eating at her from the inside, like a parasite that had burrowed inside her skin to stay. Or an infection her body couldn't shake off. But she couldn't tell him. No matter how heartbroken Castle would be, she knew that Maddox would make good on his promise. _Not one word, Kate. Or he dies._ She wasn't going to be the one to tell Alexis Castle that she would never see her father again because Kate couldn't keep her mouth shut.

It wasn't really a lie was it? More like… withholding the truth. Lie of omission, maybe? But the thing was, that was still a lie. She knew she should've told him. They were partners and they never kept secrets from each other. Especially not something like this. Not something that's threatening a direct end to his life. Her wound throbbed just thinking about it.

Standing outside the precinct, she checked her watch. She walked across the street and hailed a taxi, her worry and stress building with every passing minute. It was just past five. If she hurried, she could be at the hospital for her appointment on time.

* * *

"Kate Beckett?" The receptionist's voice called over the crowds of people milling about in the waiting room of the clinic. The shrill wail of babies and the huddled figures of desperate family members made Kate stand up quickly from the hard plastic chair and follow the nurse into an examination room, feeling sheen of sweat silver her forehead. Her teeth launched an unconsciousness assault on her bottom lip. She hated going to the hospital. So much hope and misery mingled together, it sickened her.

The examination room was cold and sterile. A padded table with white tissue paper positioned over it. There were magazines advertising the Bronx Zoo and Statue of Liberty stacked near the door. What, did they expect her to be next vacation while she was in here?

She sat up on the table, examining her untrimmed fingernails to distract her from the smell of disinfectant still lingering in the air. She hoped this wouldn't take long. She had come here right after her shift ended and was hoping to go home and pick up some Chinese on the way. But, then again, a knife wound with the possibility of infection might take a while.

It had taken her a day to develop the courage to call for an appointment. It had taken her almost ten minutes to make herself physically step into the clinic, every nerve alert for a sign that would indicate Maddox's presence. If he saw her, he would take her out. Right there and now. So far, so good.

"Ms. Beckett?" A doctor in a white coat came in, smiling gently at her. His black hair was waved back from his face and streaked with grey at the temples. He had that fatherly air about him that immediately set her at relative ease. "I'm Dr. Randolph. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Detective," she corrected boldly. She had gotten into that habit long ago; sometimes pissing people off but she had earned that title and was holding onto it. "It's _Detective_ Beckett."

"Of course. I won't make that mistake again." Dr. Randolph pulled out her file and peered over it, his glasses slipping over the edge of his nose. "It says here you have some concerns about an old wound?"

She tried hard to keep her voice steady. Her nerves were already frayed from the whole incident; she didn't need a doctor warning her about the dangers of her job to make her heartbeat go into triple time. "Yes. Could it possibly be infected?"

Dr. Randolph put down her chart. "Let's find out. Lie down, if you please."

She willingly obliged, feeling the tissue paper crinkle as she changed positions. He lifted up her shirt; far enough to peel back the white gauze bandage. The wound was inflamed red, a deep gash of oozing blood with an edge of crusty scar tissue around it. The cut itself was crisscrossed by a small, neat row of stitches. The smell of blood and pus almost made her gag.

Dr. Randolph's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Knife wound, huh?"

It was her turn for the eyebrows to rise up. "Yes. Most doctors wouldn't know that."

"Oh, I'm used to treating New York's finest. If you haven't noticed, this clinic is a block from the 64th Precinct." He said with a good natured laugh. She smiled. She hadn't noticed, actually. She had only heard by word of mouth that this hospital did good – and fast – work and that their nurses were hot enough to make the guys want to stay longer. Thinking back, she realized had heard this from the Robbery guys at the 64th Precinct. Go figure.

"Did you stitch this up yourself?"

Tissue paper crinkled as she shook her head. "No. My friend did it."

"Has your friend performed such operations before?"

"Yes, she has. She's a trained medical professional." Kate neglected to mention that her friend practiced her surgical skills on cadavers and her friend rarely stitched up anything that wasn't in the shape of a Y.

"Well, it looks like she did a good job. I'm not seeing signs of infections but I'm going to give you some antibiotics, just in case." He pulled out a pad and scrawled down an illegible scribble. Typical. "You can pick up your medicine at the front desk."

Kate jumped down from the table and pulled her shirt back down. "Is that it?"

"I also want you to come in four to six weeks from now. You can schedule an appointment with the receptionist. I want to check how it's healing, is that okay?"

"Fine. Thank you, doctor."

Dr. Randolph shook his head. "No problem at all. See you next time, Kate. Try not come bearing new wounds, will you?" She laughed along at his joke but inside she felt the pang of bitter satire. _No promises, doctor._

* * *

Thanks for reading and I hope you leave a review. Next chapter, Castle finds out!


	4. Oh, no

Thank you to all you guys. You guys really make me smile. So here's the long anticipated next chapter. Hope it goes well!

* * *

Castle's day got off to a deceptingly good start.

For starters, he woke up to the sound of a blender whirring and the quiet voices of two very familiar voices. His eyes shot open and he skittered out of his bedroom door to see his daughter and mother stop mid-conversation to smile at him.

"You're back!" Castle pulled Alexis toward him in a bone crushing hug. Dressed in a light tee and sweatpants, it was like she had never left. The mess in the kitchen almost confirmed it. "When did you arrive? I didn't even hear you!"

"Hi, dad." Alexis looked up happily at her father's face, crushed against his robe. "We got back last night around one in the morning last night. We didn't want to wake you so we kept quiet."

"You should've woken me." Castle released her and moved on to his mother, pecking her on the cheek. Martha looked even more radiant than usual, dressed in a leopard print suit with a wild amount of jewelry. Martha patted his cheek fondly and then looked around the loft.

"How are you, my dear? I see the house isn't in shambles which is always good news."

"Very funny, mother." Castle gave her a derisive smile. First day back and already a comedian. Life was officially back to normal.

Alexis grabbed a Pop-tart from the toaster and bit into it, strawberry jelled crumbs spraying out as she tried to talk and swallow at the same time. "So how was your book tour, Dad? We tried to return on the same day as your tour ended but we kind of got caught up."

Castle looked at them with interest. "Oh? Caught up, how?"

Alexis lowered her voice in a stage whisper and put her hand up by her mouth as if to tell him a confidential secret. "Grandma… wait for it… met a guy."

"No!" Castle gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his heart. "I would never have guessed!"

"Really," Martha rolled her almond shaped eyes at them. "He was very handsome. Reminded me of Hugh Grant. And smart, too. He could recite all the great works of Shakespeare, plus all the lines from _Les Miserables_, which is a Broadway play I absolutely adore."

Alexis grinned widely. "He was the orientation guy from Yale. He was simply _charmed_ by Grandma."

"And I, too, was placed under his spell." Martha sighed in the theatrical way that was now second nature. The other two in the room stifled laughs.

"So how about you, daughter? Gain any world class knowledge about navigating the world of college essays and dorm rooms?" Castle plopped down into a kitchen stool and stole a piece of Alexis' Pop-tart.

The red head sighed in dismay. "It's so complicated. There's so many things I have to do." She shook her head in exasperation. "I'm going to be so busy this year."

"Just remember," Castle picked up her dishes and placed them in the sink. "Enjoy senior year. Knowing you, you'll probably study the year away."

"I'll try to go to more frat parties and get blow off tests more often, Dad." Alexis smirked.

Castle smirked back. "That's my girl."

Martha poured out a glass of a thick, dark green drink made out of a variety of fruits and vegetables she had just blended together, and pushed it towards him. "Drink up."

He stared at the glass. He could see a bit of spinach that hadn't been completely ground up yet hanging on the edge. "Mother, not to offend, but what _is_ that?"

"It's a health drink." She gazed at him reproachfully. "It's supposed to be good for you. Now drink."

"You know what?" Castle began getting out of his seat and making his way back towards his room. "I'm late. I agreed to come in today to help Kate with paperwork and well, look at the time. Sorry, Mother. Another time, maybe."

Martha invoked a well-practiced sigh that was often accompanied when dealing with her son's musings. "Very well. Go. But you and I both know poor Kate will end up doing all the paperwork while you play on your phone."

"You know me too well, Mother." He shot her a mischievous grin and then disappeared into his room, emerging several minutes later, shaved and showered, wearing dark jeans and a royal purple button down.

"How's Detective Beckett anyway?" Alexis asked.

"Fine." Castle said confidently. "We talked yesterday and she's doing fine." He started walking toward the front door.

"Richard," Martha called him back. "Why don't invite Kate over for dinner? If I know her right, I'm guessing she hasn't been eating as well as she should."

"Sure, I'll ask her." Castle said with one hand resting on the door knob. "But she might be too busy."

"Oh, but this will be sort of like a thank-you-for-putting-up-with-my-father-on-a-daily-basis dinner!" Alexis exclaimed with an impish smile.

"Now _that_ I can understand," Martha said under her breath. Castle gave them both a look. Regular comedians.

"Okay, okay, I'll ask her." Castle opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, imagining the look on Kate's face when she would realize how much she means to all of them.

* * *

Early morning traffic was always a mess. Taxis blared their horns, construction workers drilled deafening jackhammers into the concrete sidewalks to reach sewer lines, angry pedestrians flipped off anyone who crossed their paths, and throughout the headache-inducing monstrosity that made up Manhattan traffic, steam and the smell of motor oil rose through the grates of the subway.

More often than not, Castle was like the other New Yorkers and busy trying to find holes to squeeze through in the long lines of vehicles or swearing at the insolent business man who managed to cut him. But today, he was more worried about what he was going to say to Kate. He could count on one hand the number of times she had accepted a dinner invitation at his house.

A casual 'Wanna grab a bite to eat after this?' wouldn't work – too relaxed. She would reply that she had paperwork to finish and brush him off. And he couldn't say 'Mother and Alexis wants you to come over because they feel bad that you have to put up with me.' That would only give her more ammo to tease him with. And she already had _plenty_.

He was still brainstorming when his phone suddenly let out a shrill ring. He made a vague swiping motion at it with one hand while swerving to avoid an incoming delivery truck.

He fumbled it before finally tucking it under the shell of his ear. "Castle."

"Hello, Mr. Castle." The voice was high and eager, the voice of an excited rookie that resonated on the line.

He bit back a sigh. He didn't recognize the voice but he had received his share of prank calls before. It was probably a journalist from some obscure newspaper seeking a sound bit. He didn't have time to answer questions about Nikki Heat right now. "My publicist receives any questions about my personal and professional life. Her number is –"

"Be quiet." The voice was suddenly changed, deep and authoritative, the voice he imagined belonging to a dictator or a military general. Definitely not a rookie journalist. What the hell? "Mr. Castle, I'm going to tell you something and I want you to listen very carefully. It's about Kate."

Castle abruptly sat up in his seat, feeling extremely vulnerable. He was in a car in the middle of New York traffic but he felt eyes on him at that moment. He swallowed with some difficulty, his mouth felt dry and desiccated. "Are you going to me your name?"

"Cole Maddox."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't. He couldn't perform the simple act of drawing air into his lungs because this couldn't be Kate's shooter. This couldn't be the person who was responsible for almost killing his partner. This couldn't be happening.

When Castle failed to form a coherent response, Maddox's voice grew mocking. "Oh, please, Mr. Castle. Take your time. It's not like this is our only time to talk."

His voice returned, fueled by sudden anger and the need for retribution. If Maddox was contacting him in such a blatant and arrogant manner, it must be important. The sniper was too smart to risk capture for a just a snide remark. "Why are you calling me?"

"I'm afraid Ms. Beckett will refuse to heed my warning, even after I warned her in person." His voice became silky again. "Tell her that if she doesn't call off this foolish investigation of hers – in a public manner, I might add – I will personally kill each and every one of her friends and family."

Castle sucked in a quick breath, pretending to misunderstand. "What investigation?"

He knew that technically the case of Kate's sniper case - the case Maddox was referring to - was still active and that Kate worked on it whenever she had time, but when was the last time he had seen Kate looking through that file? He suddenly realized that Kate hadn't picked up even her mother's file in weeks – a strange contrast to her usual workaholic routine.

Maddox snorted with derision. "The one where the NYPD is searching for me with the passion of an 18th century witch hunt. _That_ investigation."

He opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again, his mind stumbling over something else the sniper had mentioned. "What do you mean, you warned her in person? When did you last see her?"

Maddox laughed, a horrible grating sound because he seemed to be relishing in his panic. "Well, I see that she followed my advice, after all. You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" He had trouble keeping his voice even. What had Kate gotten herself into?

"I just added to her collection of scars, that's all. And I told her that if she ever told anyone what I had done, I will kill the person she's closest to. Apparently, she interpreted it to mean _you_." He said it in such a nonchalant manner, Castle had to restrain himself from punching in the dashboard. What the hell had that damn sniper done to her now? More important question: Why the hell hadn't she told him?

Castle swerved and took a right, heading north on Central. "Why didn't you just kill her?"

"She wouldn't be of any use to me. If I killed her - and I very well could have - it would just be a senseless act of brutality. A waste of talent, if you will."

"That makes it sound like you have a brain, Maddox. Congratulations." He added softly, the writer in him not being able to resist goading the man. It was childish and most likely dangerous, but this was just a little part of the revenge he would be able to partake in.

Maddox's voice turned deadly calm. "Watch it, Mr. Castle. I've left you alone because my employer has ordered me to but I've been known to break rules now and then."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on his driving, gripping his cellphone even tighter. "And who's your employer?"

"Nice try. Oh, and Mr. Castle? Tell Kate that I'm glad she followed directions. But if she tries to catch me… there will be consequences."

"Like what?" Castle asked softly. He was close to the precinct, less than ten minutes away. He could talk to her then.

Maddox was so silent, he almost feared the man had hung up. Then, "Tell Kate her mom says hi."

* * *

Kate was sitting at her desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork. She had arrived here early, intending to get start on the day and was already regretting it. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the document in front of her. Something about budget cuts and processing new funding. She signed it without even reading through it. She was halfway done with her pile - the rest she'll leave for Ryan and Esposito since they tended to get bored and fidgety if they don't have stacks of files looming over them - when she heard the door of the precinct slam. Hard.

Annoyed, she looked up and brushed her hair out of her eyes to see Castle storming his way to her. At first, she hadn't even recognized him. Every line on his face was drawn taut with worry, and his ocean blue eyes, usually smiling and twinkling, was narrowed into slits. He stood in front of her, his jaw muscles ticking.

Kate stood up, feeling the anxiety and panic radiating off of him like heat waves. "Castle, what -"

He slammed his phone down on his desk with a loud thump. They were starting to attract stares from the beat cops milling around the water cooler. Castle gazed at her, his fists clenched by his sides. "Guess who just called me?"

She had a feeling she wouldn't have to guess long. She was right. "Um, Alexi- "

"Maddox. Cole Maddox."

Oh. _Damn_. She fought the rising wave of panic that climbed up her throat like bile. "Wh- what did he say?"

He stared at her with an inscrutable expression, his throat muscles working. To think that his biggest problem an hour was how to ask her to dinner. Did he even _want_ to ask her to dinner after this? "He said that he and you_ met_ a few weeks ago." His voice softened, stone instead of steel, until she could tell how truly worried he had been for her.

"Kate," he said, his voice impossible soft. "What did he _do_ to you?"

* * *

That awkward moment when someone doesn't review...


	5. Deal

Holy crap, you guys are awesome! Thank you to each and every one of you who reviewed or favorited or followed this story. I couldn't do this without you.

* * *

_What did he do to you?_

Kate froze. A flare of panic burned in her stomach and her palms began to get damp.

She was aware of the tiniest of details, the smallest of noises. Like the single bead of sweat that slipped between her shoulder blades underneath her sweater, the whirring of a computer coming to life, the smell of cologne mixed with the stale air of the precinct.

She tried not to notice how Castle was looking at her with so much concern and alarm shining in his eyes that she almost broke down in tears, or how they were standing less than half a foot away from each other, or how she recognized the fact that no matter what happened, she couldn't keep going without him.

Her mind is racing, scrambling to come up with an explanation that will set Castle at ease, whether it'd be the truth or not. But her voice seems to have gone because the words are stuck in her throat.

There were better ways she could've handled Maddox's threat, she realized. Tell the truth to Castle and assign a protective detail on him and his family. Or she could've had forensics come to the crime scene – the spot outside the garage where he had stabbed her – and they could have picked up some trace that might have led them right to Maddox himself. Why had she been so intent on keeping this to herself? She knew Maddox would kill anyone she had told her secret to, but had she really, truly, believed that? Or had she been so bent on fighting her own battles that she forgot the one actuality she had learned long ago, something her own mother had once taught her: letting someone in wasn't a weakness – it was a strength.

Why had it taken her so long to realize this?

He's looking at her. Castle is looking at her. _Looking_ at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his. And she wants to tell him everything. Everything.

There were so many ways this conversation could go. Hadn't she imagined each and every scenario lying on her bed at night when sleep just wouldn't come? What he would say, what she would say, how nervous she might be, how angry he might be. What she hadn't predicted, however, was the outcome. Because she had no idea how this would end.

So now she's standing here, in the middle of the precinct with papers scattered across her desk and the shuffling of beat cops around them. And she has no idea what to say. Because he's _looking_ at her.

So she doesn't say anything. She couldn't have even if she wanted to. Instead, she acknowledges the old adage of actions speaking louder than words, and chooses to do the same.

Kate reaches for his hand and tugs him toward the break room, where the partially closed windows and the empty tables would offer them some measure of modest privacy.

Castle follows willingly, not flinching at her touch but grasping it more securely, as if he was afraid she would slip away from him somehow. They enter the break room and she settles down on the couch, gingerly placing her body on the lumpy cushions so that her head rests on an arm and her feet is propped up on the other head.

Then she slowly lifts up her sweater to reveal the white bandage that's neatly taped to the side of her torso. It's tidy and well placed but even she could see the extent of the damage down underneath the thin, white gauze. Castle sucks in a quick breath at the sight.

When he speaks, his voice is low and hoarse, rough as sandpaper. It's one of the few times his voice cuts her to the core. "Kate… what happened?"

She looks up at the ceiling, feeling tears prick the back of her eyelids as she struggles to force the words from her throat. "Stabbed… he stabbed me with a knife."

His expression is one of horror. Then it clears to expose the rage and fury carved into every line on his face. "Son of a _bitch_."

"We'll get him," Kate whispers. "We'll get him."

Castle stares at her. She's the one that got stabbed but she's reassuring him? He nods once then cautiously places a hand on her stomach. His hand spans her entire abdomen and his fingers brush along the edge of the bandage. "Does it hurt?"

Concern. That's what astonishes her the most. Concern and worry burn like stars in his eyes, not anger. He's not angry at her. He's _worried_ about her. God, what had she done to deserve a guy like him?

She shakes her head, drawing out of her thoughts. "No, not really." She's lying for his sake. It still hurts like hell whenever she breathes too deeply, laughs, or does anything that involves exerting her stomach muscles.

Castle gives her a look that cleaves her lie in half. "Kate."

She concedes. "Fine. A – a little."

His hand still hasn't left and the rough pad of his thumb is tracing small, soothing circles on her skin. It doesn't take away from the angry throb of pain but it makes her feel better. Like she can finally move on from this.

They spend the next few minutes in silence; Kate concentrating on breathing while Castle seems to be lost in thought.

She finally breaks the silence. "Next week."

Castle lifts up his head and stares at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I have a doctor's appointment next week. And I… well… I don't want… to go alone," she says haltingly. "So, if it isn't too much of a bother… will you come with me?" She ends the question in a whisper, like a child asking for a favor, timid and afraid of rejection.

He's quiet, so quiet she thinks he'll decline and tell her to go by herself, that this is her punishment for lying to everyone. But then he stares at her straight in the eyes as he says calmly, "One condition. You tell the others about this."

A relieved exhale escapes her lips. "Deal."

Castle smiles, a tiny but genuine one that's the first one she's seen this morning. "Deal."

* * *

So I know this one's really short but I really wanted to focus on Castle/Beckett here. I'll try to make the other one longer. Thanks for reading and review!


	6. Game goes on

"Stabbed?!" Ryan explodes.

He and his partner are clustered around her desk, both of them wearing the same shell-shocked, horrified expressions. Ryan was the first one to voice their thoughts.

The normally good-natured Irish detective was scowling with anger, his face twisted with the effects of betrayal. "How could you not _tell_ us?"

"Yeah. And why are we finding out about this _now_?" Esposito jumps in, his arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes narrowed.

"You know why I couldn't tell you." Kate reminds them. She is standing at the edge of her desk with her arms mimicking Esposito's pose, fingernails digging into her ribcage. She wishes Castle was next to her, his strong frame a support for her to lean on, but she had insisted on doing this herself.

"Still," Ryan says stubbornly. "We're your _friends_."

She winces. But she remains strong. "Look. I'm not saying that what I did was right but I did for you guys." Her chin juts out a centimeter. "I don't regret it."

They fall silent at her words. Their grudge against her lie crumbles and gradually their stubborn looks softens. They are her team. Her boys. As much as they would hate to admit it, they understood Kate's reasons for lying. But that didn't mean they had to like it.

"You never answered my question." Esposito reminds her after a moment. "Why are you telling us _now_?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "Well, Castle found out this morning because Maddox contacted him –"

"– Castle already _knew_?" That would be Ryan.

"– Maddox _contacted_ him?" Esposito.

"Yes. Now Ryan, can you try tracing Maddox's call? It was within the last hour so we still have a pretty good chance." Kate pleaded, effectively ending their conversation. They did, after all, have a job to do and she was itching to see where this call could lead them.

Ryan hesitates, clearly unwilling to let this drop, but nods and heads over to his desk. "Got it, boss."

"And Javi, ask Gates if she'll let us open the case again." Kate adds. If they're going to catch Maddox, they were going to do this right. With permission. Not because she had suddenly turned over a new leaf and was now intent on getting the captain's blessing with every action, but she had learned the hard way that criminals were often acquitted in court because the arresting officer had not followed protocol – thus, their arrest was not technically valid in a court of law.

Javi heads toward their captain's office but not before turning back around to face her again. "Does Lanie about all this?"

She bobs her head up and down. "I told her all this a few minutes before I told you guys."

The Hispanic detective's face breaks down in a grin. "How'd the chica react?" _"Kate Beckett, if you try to pull something like this again, I will shoot you. Literally. No questions asked. A mugging?! Really? Girl, you are trippin' if you think for a minute I don't know how to hide a body…"_

"She, uh, was shocked. Angry, for a bit." Kate said truthfully, fidgeting slightly in her seat. Javi lets out a laugh as he imagines the feisty ME's response.

"Go." Kate waves him off but gives a small smile in return.

"On it. Oh, and boss?"

She lifts her head up. "Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're okay." Which was how she knew how worried he'd been.

Esposito stares at her solemnly, his dark eyes growing serious as he takes in her alive, albeit weak, appearance.

Kate stares back at him, surprised by this show of emotion. Esposito was usually the last out of all of them to express his feelings. Even in a particularly trying case, he was the one who would be reassuring the others and telling them to be strong, if only for the victim. The fact that he had taken the time to tell her this only made her realize how particularly painful it must've been for them. Finding out their boss was hiding her harrowing experience from them must hurt.

She clears her throat. "Me too. And… I'm sorry."

He simply gives her one last poignant smile before leaving for Gate's office.

* * *

"Absolutely not."

The words fall like an axe, snapping her thinly veiled calm like a thread and replacing it with a bitter resentment that flares in her cheeks like wildfire.

"What do you mean, _no_?" She's having trouble keeping her voice even in this crowded room. Ryan and Esposito stand behind her like guarded soldiers and Castle is sitting on the couch, staring at her and saying nothing.

"Detective Beckett," Gates says quietly. "Think about this. This man has tried to kill you multiple times and has threatened to kill your partner now. Do you really think it's a good idea to walk into his trap like this?"

"This is _my _case. I want in." Kate insists firmly in loud voice.

"Think, Kate." Their captain dictates. "Try to think about this from my point of view. I just found out that my best detective has had a run-in with a wanted sniper, a run-in she failed to mention or report, instead choosing to keep it a secret for the last four weeks. Then, on top of all that, I find out that the sniper in question managed to contact an NYPD consultant to personally deliver his warning." Gates exhales a slow breath. "Now you want to me to let you open this case again?"

A beat of silence.

Kate felt a pang of guilt stab her chest. Gates was right. This was a bad idea. But it was necessary. She didn't have a choice.

"Detective," Gates says in a surprising gentle voice. "I won't order you to leave this case alone because I get it. I _get_ it. I get how bad you want this, I get how much you want him, but Kate," she pauses on her first name, the sincerity in her voice ringing like church bells. "What's happens if this case breaks you?"

Her throat closes up and she suddenly can't breathe. This case has risks that are so much higher and bigger than her previous cases, simply because it's that personal. Looking around, she sees the fierce loyalty of her team defiantly shining though on their faces. Ryan and Esposito are standing behind her, their postures ramrod straight. She senses rather than sees Castle is right next to her, a column of strength, and she's glad for his presence.

As close as they've gotten in these four years, she realizes it's moments like these when they really come together, a family.

"Well, detective?" Gates asks, breaking the silence. There's a long moment when no one says anything and she realizes there's nothing to say, nothing left to say except her answer.

"I want in," she speaks slowly. It's not until she stiffens that she comprehends that her hand has reached out and is gripping Castle's, squeezing it hard. "But…"

"Whatever your decision is, detective, I'll respect it." Gates adds.

She looks up through her long tangle of hair curling around her face and gazes around her. "I want to be there but… I might need some help."

Her last words leave her lips in a whisper, torn from her lips like dead leaves in the wind. Castle grips her hand tighter and envelops her fingers inside his hands, stroking it soothingly.

"Then it's a good thing I'm here," comes a distinctly recognizable voice from the doorway. Everyone's heads snap up in a synchronized motion but Kate doesn't even have to turn to know who it is.

The visitor comes forward and shakes the captain's hand. "Captain Gates, pleasure as always." She acknowledges the rest of them with a quick nod and a smile. "I had hoped we'd meet again under more cheerful circumstances but I guess this will have to do for now. How are you?"

The rest of them can only stare in disbelief at the smile and quirked eyebrow of Jordan Shaw.

* * *

I absolutely loved Jordan in the show, mainly because of her kick-ass attitude and dry sense of humor so I wanted to bring her back here. Tell me what you think!


	7. Why not?

Thanks to all who reviewed. I'm doing this for you guys

* * *

"… get split jurisdiction," Jordan was saying to their captain.

Her words leaked through the door and reached the ears of two people perched on a desk, impatiently waiting just outside the door. Kate had sent Ryan and Esposito to dig up the case file and see if they could trace the call made to Castle's phone, leaving her and Castle waiting outside Gate's office.

After Jordan's surprising, but somewhat expected appearance, Gates had allowed several minutes for handshakes and 'how are you's before shooing them all out. The captain and Jordan had to discuss how exactly the Bureau was going to handle the jurisdiction split and how much the Feds were going to be involved – the latter being a matter of pride for weathered captain.

Kate crossed her arms and stared at the closed door of Gate's office, her mind still buzzing over the last few minutes. Hell, it was still buzzing over the last 24 hours. Today had supposed to be a quiet day. She had been expected to come in to finish off the paperwork of their last case then take the rest of the day off if no new cases came up, maybe even a casual lunch date with Castle if he wasn't busy.

Instead, her day had begun with Castle storming into the precinct, clutching his cellphone like he'd wanted to crush it in his hand. The thought of Maddox contacting her partner was enough to send her heartbeat into triple time. Gates allowing her to reopen the case and, even perhaps, end the damn thing once and for all was enough to make her stomach tie up in a Gordian knot.

She still didn't know how she felt about all this.

Now, Jordan Shaw was here as a liaison with the FBI to assist in solving the case. Secretly, Kate was glad they had picked Jordan to come; the Feds could've done a lot worse than the dry humored, veteran agent who seemed to know her work so well.

As if reading her thoughts, Castle leans over and murmured, "Helluva day, huh?"

"Hell of a day," she agrees.

Castle leans in closer, his low voice caressing the shell of her ear. "Wanna grab a late lunch after this?"

She twists around so she could glance up at the big clock hanging on the wall. "It's past three. I didn't even notice," she says in a surprised voice.

"Is that a yes?"

She smiles. Her face muscles feel stiff and cracked from the seriousness of the day. "Yeah, that's a yes."

He smiles back, and for a second everything's back to normal and the case they're working on is a regular Jack-shot-Bill-over-Jill and after this, they might go for drinks and bite to eat at the local diner. Then reality comes crashing in through the form of Jordan Shaw walking out of Gate's office. The agent walks briskly towards them and gives them a nod.

"Detective Beckett, Mr. Castle. Good to see you."

"Likewise." Kate responds.

Castle gives Jordan a welcoming smile and a quick handshake. "Nice to see you again."

Jordan sets down her bags and faces them, clapping her hands together to get their attention. "Where are we on the case?"

Esposito steps forward and plops the case file, clearly marked with Cole Maddox's name in bold capitalized letters, onto her desk with a hopeless thump. "I've been going over it but there's nothing there."

"Ditto." Ryan groans. "I've tried tracing Castle's cell but it led to a disposable phone which he probably threw away by now."

"Okay, so we start from scratch. Let's go over the facts." Kate rubs her hands together, her brow furrowing in thought. "We know he doesn't want us investigating – the phone call to Castle confirmed it – which means he's nervous."

"He's planning something big he doesn't want us knowing." Castle reasoned.

"That makes sense." Ryan dips in his head in agreement.

Her teeth launch an unconscious assault on her bottom lip in frustration. "We still don't know _what's_ he's planning, though."

"We know it has to do with you two." Jordan pointed out. "He stabs one and calls the other. Can't be a coincidence."

"So it's about us, again." Castle says heavily. The words fall from his lips and slams through the air like falling concrete. Another sniper case.

But they all know, it's really about _her_.

Those words are the only thing Kate can think about as they try to process this dizzying case that threatens to spin them off their center. She's not the only one thinking how these types of cases seem to follow them around like a shadow; there's an unnatural stiffness in Ryan's solid stance and a muscle in Esposito's jaw ticks like a hammering pulse.

Castle catches her eye with a fleeting look that makes his sapphire eyes crinkle with worry. That's when she realizes that everyone is worried about her.

The concern marked in Ryan and Esposito's eyes is nothing short of brotherly and Castle is staring at her like she was composed of fine china and was about to shatter any second.

"I'm fine, guys." Kate speaks firmly.

"Beckett, you say 'fine' so much, it doesn't even sound like a word anymore." Esposito retorts, eliciting a small chuckle out of Jordan and effectively breaking the looming tension.

"Okay, so I'm not a 100% but I will be." She takes a deep breath. _After this case is over._

Kate could feel the heat of Jordan's stare burning into her back. She tenses and turns around, dreading the argument that Jordan will surely have about her not being able to function correctly because of this, how she must be taken off of this case because it was too personal.

The agent opens her mouth, Kate winces –

"Then let's get to work."

Kate exhales a sigh of relief and simply nods. Thank god for Jordan Shaw.

They work for hours without stopping.

Her much anticipated lunch date with Castle ended up taking a rain check as Castle called the nearest Chinese place and ordered enough food to feed the entire NYPD force. So they fumbled with chopsticks and plucked egg rolls off of each other's plates while analyzing past records of any documents concerning Cole Maddox or a world renowned sniper. They knew he was simply a puppet sent out to do his master's bidding. They just didn't know who was holding the strings.

It's past twilight when they finally quit for the day. Just past seven, they've been working for about four hours.

Castle stands up from his chair and groans with relief when his back muscles release a series of pops. The others do the same and stretch with some relative measure of ease.

Ryan picks up his keys and shrugs into his jacket. "I've got to get home to Jenny. I'll see you guys in the morning."

"Same here. Later, guys." Esposito follows his partner out the door and into the brisk night air. Jordan had left an hour ago to try to find a hotel for the night. Now it was just her, Castle and the single light bulb of a lamp in the darkened area of the precinct.

"I should get going, too. Mother and Alexis is waiting for me," Castle tells her with a touch of an apology in his voice. He shouldn't be apologizing. It should be her for keeping him away from his family for so long.

"Yeah, I understand. Tell them I said hi, and that I want to hear more about their trip later." Kate gives him a quick smile and turns back to the stack of files on her desk.

Castle hesitates. "You wanna?"

She lifts her head back up, tilting it slightly in confusion. "Wanna what?"

"Hear more about their trip," he repeats. "You can come over for dinner and they can tell you about it. Alexis will talk about colleges and Mom will probably talk about men she'd met and we'll eat dinner and it'll be nice and…" His voice trails off due to uncertainty.

Her lips quirk upward at his rambling. "That's really sweet, Castle, but they just got back and I think they want to spend more time with you than your partner."

"No, they asked about you." Castle shakes his head fiercely. "Trust me, they'll be glad to have you. And Alexis is making her lasagna…"

As if planned, her stomach grumbled in appreciation.

A triumphant grin spreads across Castle's face. "See, even your stomach agrees with me. That's two against one. There."

Laughing, she leaned back in her seat. Castle must be more wired than she thought if he was counting her stomach as a separate entity against her. "Well, it that case… " she teases.

"Come on, Kate. Please?" Castle gives her the puppy dog eyes that worked so often on his mother, in the feeble hope they would work their magic on her.

A beat. She considered his offer with an aplomb she had been able to master over the years. Truth be told, she _was_ starving. And the idea of spending the evening with Castle and a homemade dinner was ridiculously tempting. Plus, maybe this was just what she needed to alleviate some of that stress that she had managed to accumulate during this day.

"Well?" Castle looks at her expectantly.

"Lead the way." She beams back, loving the way Castle's face light up like Christmas lights. She can't remember the last time she had felt so excited over a dinner. Perhaps that's how she should have known that things were about to go really, really bad.

* * *

Don't you love cliffhangers? :D Review!


	8. Die has been rolled

Sorry this chapter took awhile but I didn't want this to be rushed. To make up for it, the next chapter will be up in day or two since it's already written :) Enjoy!

* * *

They never made it to dinner.

Perhaps if Kate had been more observant, if she had noticed some details that didn't quite match up in her mind. Maybe if she had paid heed to that warning stir in her stomach, they would have escaped, unharmed, and they could have set off toward the direction of the loft, ready and hungry for homemade lasagna.

But through some sick cosmic joke, that never happened.

Laughing and stumbling their way down the steps of the precinct. Castle's hand resting on the lower of her back. His and her breath frosting in the cold night air. All these moments that later she would only have fragments of.

A ring of pale cigarette smoke fogged the air. The smoker gently blew out a puff of air, the smoke ring dissipating into the night air. He was leaning on the side of an alley, hidden in the shadows, his head tipped back and his fingertips coolly clutching the pale, white Kool.

He normally didn't smoke – he hasn't since he was wet-behind-the-ears rookie. But this was an important job and he needed his nerves steadied. His employer would not be happy if he failed.

His mission, quite frankly, still perplexed him. His boss, a man even he would be afraid to cross, had given him strict orders to leave his targets alive. Torture them, interrogate them, hang them up by their frigging toes but _keep them alive_. Maddox didn't know what had changed – his mission at first had been to kill Kate Beckett, but now, his boss had other plans for her. For her and that puppy dog sidekick of hers.

But he hadn't been stupid enough to question his employer. You didn't get this far in his line of work by asking questions. You don't ask questions to powerful people.

He glanced out at the darkened street. A row of burning street lamps stood firm on the opposite sidewalk with a clusters of small buildings were positioned behind them. It had been a busy street in the day but evening rush hour has passed and the lines of cabs and floods of passengers have gone with it. Now, it was quiet.

He liked it.

Maddox tipped his head back against the rough stone brick of the alley and reviewed his plan for the thousandth time. It was simple, really. His targets come out – hopefully together, he didn't have time to chase after them one by one – he knocks them out, tie them up, and throw them into the rear seat of the rented truck he had waiting around the corner.

"Excuse me," A deep, gravelly voice spoke up next to his ear. Maddox twitched with surprise and annoyance and had to restrain himself from breaking the guy's arm. It was a security guard. That's it. A patrol man who had a scrunched nose and small eyes like an elephant. The name 'Ben' was stitched onto his uniform.

"Excuse me, but can't you see the sign?" The guard gestured to the grimy, typical New York sign that showed NO LOITERING in big red letters. "People can't hang around here like this. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to write you up. Can I have your name and address, sir?"

Maddox's teeth flashed in the darkness. "Of course, officer. I understand. My name is Cole Maddox. As for my address, my job doesn't allow me to have a permanent address, I'm a professional sniper."

Ben's brows furrowed in concentration, his hands stilling in the process of pulling out his notepad.

The sniper took a step closer. "You might recognize me from those annoying New York Amber Alerts those pesky cops always send out. I'm a wanted man, you see."

The guard's eyes grew wide as his face registered one of the most televised and sought after names the NYPD has been hunting for. "Y-you were th-the one who sh-shot that c-cop?"

He stepped closer, a smooth smile still playing on his lips. "I assume you mean Detective Kate Beckett. Yes, I was the one who shot her. I'm famous."

Backing away, the Ben the security guard chuckled nervously, "Y-you know what? I think I'll –"

He never finished that sentence. Maddox had broken his neck before he could. The snapping of vertebrae echoed in the alley, along with the soft thump as the body of the security guard crumpled to ground. Cole Maddox merely stepped over the body and walked across the street.

A long time ago, he had felt guilty about casualties like Ben. But years of experience had wiped away any remorse he had once felt for victims. Now, Ben could be put to use – bait. Maddox dragged the body toward the opening of the alley, so that it was visible to anybody who was sharp enough to notice. Kate Beckett would notice, he was certain of it.

He could see the light in the 12th precinct flickering before it finally gave way to inky blackness. The dim outlines of two figures could be seen, walking towards the exit. Finally.

"Shall we?" Castle crooked his arm and she gladly slipped her hand through it.

"We shall."

They ambled their way down the small blocks of steps and onto the quiet sidewalk. The night was young but only a few bystanders strolled past them, businessmen going home after a long day at the office. Lights of the city twinkled behind them and a slow line of cars and cabs inched along the road.

They had only walked a few steps when Kate suddenly stopped in her tracks, almost making Castle stumble.

"Something wrong?" he asked lightly.

She frowned, squinting her eyes at a lumpy mound near the mouth of an alley. It can't be, she decided. It was just her cop instincts acting up again. It couldn't be.

"Kate?" Castle touched her arm in concern. "What's wrong?"

She forced the words out of her mouth. "Does that – thing – on the ground look like – like a body to you?"

The streetlamps barely lit the surrounding area. The degenerate form on the ground could be a body – if he stared hard enough, he could just make out the faint outline of a bent arm, the twist of a torso, the outturned foot.

Or, it could be a bag of garbage that some kids have knocked over, a piece of furniture overturned on its side, a construction site where some worker had carelessly left some equipment lying around. Castle sincerely hoped it was one of those three. Kate's mind was running on the same line. Surely, their luck couldn't be this bad.

"Come on," she said in spite of herself. "Let's go see."

Castle willingly obliged and stepped beside her. "Alright. But if it's a body. Ryan and Esposito can work this case."

"Deal." They crept closer and when they were only a few yards from the darkened mound, a passing car drove by and its passing headlights illuminated the scene. An audible gasp was heard. From Castle or her, she wasn't sure.

It was a body. No doubt about it.

The neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, a trickle of blood escaping out of the victim's mouth. Kate inched forward, being careful not to come too close. Male, late forties. If the name tag on his uniform shirt was of any use, his name was Ben.

"This was recent." Castle spoke softly beside her. "Not even a few hours, I'm guessing."

She opened her mouth to respond, agreeing with him, when the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood straight up. A blurry figure, a flurry of moving limbs, burst out of the shadows at the corner of her peripheral vision. She whirled around to see Castle drop to the ground, knocked out cold by an unknown force.

"Who -" That was all she could manage before she felt a blinding pain at the base of her skull. Stars exploded in front of her eyes and she crumbled to the ground, the world around her fading to blissful black.

Cole Maddox smiled, a bare flashing of teeth, before throwing the bodies into the backseat of the rented truck. He left Ben there. The engine revved and the truck was soon coasting down the street, blending in with the rest of the vehicles.

The whole incident had taken less than five seconds.

* * *

I don't know about other fanfic authors but I use writing as an escape from reality so I tend to get really irritable if I haven't written in a few days. This past week I was so cranky and stressful I wouldn't be surprised if my friends had tried to murder me in my sleep. Anyway, because I haven't touched this story in like a week, I'm really not sure about this one. So tell me what you think.


	9. Capture

Two chapter in a week! Wow, I'm getting better. Thanks to the guest reviewer to pointed out that Amber Alerts are for missing children, thanks for catching my mistake (and I mean that sincerely, not sarcastically).

On with the show!

* * *

Fear.

Fear radiates from every cell and nerve in her body.

She cracks open an eyelid first, a tiny slit to observe and notice the situation she had gotten herself into. Through the long fringe of her eyelashes, she makes out the silhouettes of cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other, slabs of concrete and drywall leaning against the wall, the sharp figure of _him_ coming towards her. Then she closes her eyes again.

Consciousness returns in small bright flashes. Walking out of the precinct. Castle next to her. Finding a body on the ground. An attacker. Pain. Blackness.

She's somewhere out of the city – she can't hear the sounds of traffic she's gotten so used to although a skinny door is propped open at the other side of the room. She can see the glimpse of daylight peeking through and… clouds? Warehouse, maybe. No, this place is too small and high up. More like an abandoned storage room, a shanty, at the top of a building –the roof, perhaps.

She isn't supposed to be here. She isn't supposed to be here tied up with her arms above her head and her knees crooked beneath her. She isn't supposed to be here with her face pale from terror and anxiety. She isn't supposed to be here, period. But, then again, neither is he.

Castle.

She's aware of him strung up right next to her, hands tied like her, but she's afraid of turning her head. She doesn't want to see the drawn look on his handsome face, the dark red stain matting the back of his hair from the severe blow he was dealt. She can't handle seeing him right now. Hearing his voice would cripple her; seeing his face would kill her.

If only one person could make it out of this hellhole today, please let it be Castle, she prays. He has a daughter and a mother who's waiting for him at home. She doesn't. If karma's a bitch, luck is an absolute bastard.

A figure is moving in the shadowy, half-lit darkness of the storage room – it's _him_. She blinks once and he come closer, his pace faster as if called to action. But he doesn't do anything except kneel in front of her, their eyes level, and utter her name softly.

"Katherine Beckett." He knows she's awake and alive. His voice is mocking, a taunt, a tease, because she's in _his_ power now. A distressing fact but it's true. She's in his mercy and they both know it. She doesn't reply, doesn't do anything except stare right into his eyes, bold and defiant. If this going to be her last stand, she's not going down as a coward.

"Tell me," Maddox says quietly. "How would you like to die?"

She doesn't answer. Her mouth is full of cotton balls and her head is throbbing like a steel drum. She's fighting to stay conscious and trying to keep the pain at bay, from turning the thrumming ache into an unbearable pain. Is she giving up? No. Would she like to die? Possibly. At this moment, her answer's leaning toward a yes.

Castle groans suddenly beside her and she jerks her head toward him. She can't help it, she has to see him. And she nearly cries out. His chin is nearly touching his broad chest and crimson blood flows freely from the wound on his head. He's not faring much better than her.

Maddox braces his hands on his thighs and pulls himself up, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips as he glances over at her partner. "Welcome back, Mr. Castle."

"Go to hell." Castle gasps out.

"Been there." He touches the tip of a razor sharp knife to Castle's sinewy arm and applies the slightest bit of pressure. Immediately, bright beads of blood pop up and Castle howls in pain.

She winces as his cry cuts the air. It should be her. She's the cop, he's the civilian. _I'm sorry, Castle. I'm so, so sorry._

* * *

"What do you mean, you can't find them?" Jordan snarls at the two detectives. This can't be happening. Kate Beckett and Rick Castle cannot be missing. No. Not now.

Ryan stumbles out a reply. "Neither of them is answering their phones -"

"- so we went to their places. Castle didn't come home last night and -" Esposito jumps in.

"- the doorman in Beckett's building doesn't remember her coming home." Ryan finishes lamely.

Jordan closes her eyes. She should've known today was going to be a bad day. The fact that the local mini-mart was out of her favorite coffee mix and how her hotel was next to a construction site should have been warning signs. This day was going to get worse before it got better. She could feel it in her blood.

She has a sneaking suspicion on who is behind this and she suspects the others do too, but she wants some evidence before launching a manhunt on Cole Maddox.

She sighs and slings her attaché case on the back of chair. "Let's go over surveillance photos of this place first. We know they left this precinct 'cause maintenance remembers them leaving. So something happened to them after they left and before they went home."

"I'm on it." Esposito hurries to his desk and starts pulling up security footage of the premises.

"I'll talk to Castle's family. They might know something." Ryan adds before grabbing the phone receiver and punching in a number copied from Castle's personal file. Before he could finish dialing, a young voice speaks up and causes them all to whirl around.

"It's okay, Detective Ryan. I'm right here." Alexis Castle folds her arms in front of her and stares at all of them, her usually bright brown eyes ringed with purple shadows and slivered with the faint shine of unshed tears.

"Alexis." Ryan cradles the receiver and hastily stands up, sputtering out the first thing that came to his mind. "What're you doing here? It's a school day."

The redhead gives him a death glare. "Do you really think I can concentrate on Calculus when my dad's missing?"

Ryan promptly stares down at his shoelaces, slightly embarrassed to be chastised by a high schooler. "Right, er, sorry."

"Alexis, we're doing all we can to find them. Don't worry." Esposito replies gently.

"'Don't worry?'" Her voice raises an octave. "You're telling me to not worry? He's my dad! He and Gram are all I've got and one of them is missing and you're telling me to not worry? What kind of cop are you!"

Jordan steps forward. "Alexis, I'm Agent Shaw from the FBI. I assure you, we're doing everything we can to find your father and Detective Beckett."

She stares at them, her eyes devoid of understanding and her lips pressed together in a white line. "Don't do that. Don't talk to me like I'm a kid who doesn't know anything. 'Cause we both know that by the time we find them, it might be too late and he-he c-could be -" Her voice breaks off and her eyes glimmer with tears.

Jordan instinctively steps forward and slings a comforting arm around the young girl's trembling shoulders. "Come on. Let's go the break room." She guides her towards the other room, offering up some measure of relative privacy, a poor second best to the idea of seeing her father again.

Alexis follows willingly with her head bowed and eyes red, sniffling slightly. Jordan pulls her close with the embrace of practiced mother and vows to work straight without stopping until they've found Castle and Beckett.

Alexis deserves this much.

* * *

I just saw the trailer for Season 5 and I literally could not stop smiling for ten minutes. So excited.

I really wanted to include Alexis in this one because I feel she hasn't had much of a role in this story or in the show. Remember to review! I"m hoping to break fifty with this chapter!


	10. Pink Mist

I'm sorry I've been so late with this update. Real life interfered. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It really makes my day.

Enjoy!

* * *

She can't believe this happened.

Everything is hazy in her brain, a swirl of bright colors and muffled sounds that spins her off her already tilted axis. Underwater. Like she's underwater and merely watching a scene that's playing out above her. Images and noises register in her brain as a muddle of confusion like a Dali painting. Nothing makes sense.

Dirty camera lens. It reminds her of a dirty camera lens that needs to be wiped.

Maddox is talking to her. His lips are moving. But his words are warped and twisted to incomprehension. But his face. She can dimly register the emotions that are fleeting across his face – smug, arrogant, cocky. He has every right to be.

A low groan pierces through the jumble in her brain. It's hoarse and brimming with pain. It's Castle. Castle is groaning. She can't see him. He's somewhere behind her and she can't see him because her head feels like it's full of rocks and everything is so heavy and black and why can't this be over soon?

She doesn't know what's going on. But she does, a small part of her consciousness registers what's happening and is screaming at her to snap out of it, to take charge and rescue the situation.

Because they're doomed. Marked to die.

The sickly sweet smell of sulfur and pyrotechnics linger in the air as the quiet beeping echoes in the shed. Tears spiderweb her face. The last few minutes play back in her mind like a broken reel on repeat.

_He's busy. Running around. Grabbing things off shelves. Fiddling with parts. _

_It's been a day. 24 hours they've been stuck in this shed. The first hour, she and Castle talked. What they did today, who they saw, how their families are doing – Alexis was planning on Columbia, he'd told her with a note of pride in his voice. She'd told him that she was planning on visiting her dad this coming weekend. During the second hour, the conversation had died down, the occasional murmured encouragements but both lost in thought. The third, downcast eyes ruled the space between them. Fourth, the words had lost all meaning and silence reigned._

_Now, Maddox pauses in his work to glance at them. A smirk creeps across his face. "Hello, detective. How are you?"_

_She doesn't answer. Her head thrums with lack of nourishment and hydration. Her pulse points beat lifelessly. _

_He comes closer. His forehead shines with sweat. Work gloves dangle from his pocket. Maddox holds up what he's been tinkering with all this time._

_It's a bomb._

_Castle gives a small noise of disbelief. A window with red numbers glowed ominously with wires strewn all around it. Roughly square shaped with a vial of dark colored liquid taped in the middle, the bomb looks cluttered. Messy. _

_It also looks violent._

_Very violent._

_No, she thinks. Not again. She has a flashback to a hectic street, the trunk of a van, the outright desperation that had burned in their eyes like wildfire. How she and Castle had clasped hands, believing this would be their last stand. The only difference was, Castle couldn't save them. _

She_ couldn't save them._

"_Goodbye, detective. Goodbye, Mr. Castle." Maddox whispers, bending down close to their ears so his words suffocate them._

The timer ticks innocently. Ten minutes. Nine minutes and fifty eight seconds. Fifty seven seconds.

They would be dead in less than ten minutes.

God help them.

* * *

"Dr. Parish, please tell me you've found something."Jordan approaches the ME who's bent over the body of Ben, the security guard. They've only just discovered him this morning, right after she had escorted Alexis out the door. She has a notion that this could be connected to the disappearances of Castle and Beckett and had ordered Dr. Parish to start the post-mortem exam right away.

Lanie straightens up, her back muscles protesting loudly, and hands over the autopsy results. "Sorry, Agent Shaw. I got nothing on our guy."

The small inflation of hope that has risen inside Jordan deflates like a slashed tire. "Did you at least get an ID?"

"That I did." Lanie points to the photo clipped on the inside of the file. "Name is Benjamin Sway. 46 years old, married, three kids. My guess? He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Jordan tucks the folder on the inside of her arm. "Anything to connect him to Cole Maddox? It can't be a coincidence we found his body only hours after they disappeared."

"Nada. Sorry, girl." Lanie shoots her a look full of sympathy. "Go with your gut, is my advice. If you think they're connected, they probably are."

"Thanks." Jordan attempts a smile. "Call me if you find anything."

* * *

The loft seems too big. Too empty. She's used to seeing her father's familiar figure sprawled on the couch after a hours of going over crime scene files; bent over the stove, in the process of whipping up some new, slightly nausea-inducing concoction of his; hearing the keyboard quick clacks echo from his office as he frantically types out a new chapter in a caffeine induced haze.

Now, it's silent.

Alexis Castle is curled up on the kitchen table. Her gaze is trained on the elaborate mantel clock resting above the fireplace but she doesn't see it. She's not seeing anything.

Her schoolbag is slumped on a kitchen chair, stuffed with various textbooks and folders, ready to be released from their JanSport prison but she doesn't move. Homework is the last thing on her mind right now.

Gram was in New Jersey to have lunch with her high school alums. The cops had called her hours ago but she hadn't picked up. Alexis hoped she got their message and was heading home now. She didn't want to be alone for the night.

Her phone let out a buzz that made her jump in her seat. Glancing around, she grabbed it from her backpack pocket and flipped it up to her ear. Hopefully, it was those stupid cops calling her with some useful information. "Hello?"

"Alexis Castle?" She doesn't recognize the voice.

"Yes. Who is speaking?" Her tone is polite but radiates certain coolness. Tempered with steel. _Leave me alone._

"It's about your father." Everything inside of her turns to stone.

It takes her several seconds to reply and her voice is hoarse, rough with cracked emotions. "Y-you know where he is?"

"Perhaps you've never heard of me. My name is Cole." That's enough to send the neurons firing. Hot anger swells inside of her and her voice lashes out like a cracking whip.

"You _bastard_."

"Would it help if I told you where he is?" His voice is mocking her but there's a certain ring of mockery in his voice that restrains her whirlpool of fury.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because," he says softly, just loud enough to make her ears strain. "They're probably already dead."

Her heart stops. Resumes beating. Stops again.

Because Maddox whispers, "Pink mist. That's what the professionals call people who get blown up. No body parts. Nothing _solid. _Pink mist. Lovely imagery, don't you think?"

She can't talk. Her throat's struggles to swallow the sudden lump. Her knuckles go white.

"He's at the roof of the old building, the one that's undergoing construction, on the corner of Liberty and 38th." A pause. "Bring a bomb squad."

The line goes dead.

Alexis is already out the door.

* * *

Okay, so I was kinda in a rush to get this posted as soon as possible so if this seems hurried, it's my fault. I've tried to get this chapter _right_ but I can't seem to achieve that right now...

Not really sure about this chapter so it'd be really amazing to hear what you guys thought about this.


	11. Rescue not

I'm so sorry I haven't updated in weeks - real life tended to interfere. To make it up, I will be posting another chapter today.

* * *

Their final moments of their relatively short lives were interrupted rather rudely. Kate jerked her head up at the loud banging echoing in the shed, and a wave of dizziness shrouded her, causing her to blink back down at the ground. She didn't know what was going on. Those red numbers blinking in the muted light were all she could see. _6:07…6:04…5:58…_

The banging sound increased, making her grit her teeth. The blow she had sustained from their attacker was thrumming, sending a fresh wave of pain. Kate was beaten, dehydrated, and was all but ready to collapse to the ground. Only the ropes encircling her wrists held her up.

Shouts were coming from outside. Her fatigued body barely registered the noise. Castle was saying something but she couldn't hear. Muted words escaped his lips but it was like she was underwater, her brain enveloped in a blanket of fog. She could read his expression though. Panicked at first. Then, cautious. Then a flicker of something similar to hope ran across his features.

Noises were all around her now. People shouting and moving and barking out orders. But she was tired. So, so tired. The ropes were rubbing her wrists raw and a jackhammer was pounding inside her skull and those red numbers were engraved inside her eyelids and why were there so many people here?

"Beckett! Beckett, can you hear me?" That voice sounded familiar. That face looked familiar too. Ryan. That was it. Ryan was talking to her.

"She looks like she's about to hit the floor any minute." Ryan said to someone peering at her over his shoulder. Esposito. That was him.

"Beckett, I'm going to untie you now. Just hold still." Ryan carefully began sawing through. Esposito was doing the same to Castle.

She opened her mouth, maybe to draw in a breath, maybe to thank him, but all she could manage was a single syllable word. "B-bomb?"

"Don't worry. We're working on it." Ryan tried to act nonchalant but even her exhausted self could sense his anxiety radiating from him.

"Castle?" Kate murmured.

A reply came from her left. "Right here, Kate. I'm right here." Her muscles relaxed a centimeter and a tiny twinge of optimism flared up inside her. Castle was with her. Everything was going to be fine.

"Time?" Esposito yells.

"Less than two minutes!" comes a shout back.

"Plenty of time," Ryan murmurs. The bonds finally come free, pooling at her feet, and she stands up shakily. And almost collapses again.

"Whoa there, boss." Ryan wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled her back up shakily. Her legs felt like jelly. Her body felt worse. A metronome was beating inside her head, probably the result of a concussion. A thin slice of blood dribbled out of the gash on Castle's arm.

"Who's the guy?" Kate murmurs, jerking her head back in the direction of the bomb.

Ryan allows her lean on him and grunts, "Dylan Young. Bomb squad."

Esposito and Castle aren't that far behind them, all four of them hobbling painfully towards the door, which is how they overhear Castle's mumble, "How did you find us?"

"You can thank your daughter for that. Poor girl came to us crying about her dad is probably dead because of a bomb by now. Told us that Maddox had called her a few minutes ago." Esposito recites.

"Daughter of Year," Castle chuckles wearily, dry humor wetting his lips.

They could see the paramedics lined up in front of the door, ready to take them to the hospital. Behind them, a cloud-spat blue sky peeks out. A helicopter is perched on a makeshift landing pad Kate almost had forgotten they were on the roof, almost doubling over at the sight.

Maddox, of course, is no where in sight.

"Shaw?"

"Waiting outside."

Ryan tightens his grip on her. "Almost there, boss. Just hang on."

"Time!" Esposito roars.

Dylan Young, the man who had been assigned to deactivate the bomb, stares up at them with just a hint of panic. "Ten seconds."

"Did you get it or not?" Ryan yells.

Young flashes him a glare. "I just need two more seconds to –"

That's when the bomb goes off early.

* * *

Review!


	12. Hot off the press

**BOMB DETONATES ON ROOFTOP**

**SERIAL KILLER COLE MADDOX SUSPECTED**

Authorities have confirmed that an explosive have been set off on the evening of September 19 at the corner of Liberty and 38th Street. The bomb was a homemade device that consisted of various pyrotechnic materials including copper wire, mercury, and AAA batteries.

The bomb detonated during a hostage rescue of NYPD Detective Kate Beckett and bestselling author Richard Castle. Among those injured are Detective Beckett, Richard Castle, Detective Javier Esposito, Detective Kevin Ryan, and Bomb Squad leader Dylan Young. All of them, including other personnel present on the scene including FBI Agent Jordan Shaw, are now being treated in Mercy West Hospital. Several of them are in critical condition.

The explosive reportedly went off early, leaving the authorities without those last few precious seconds needed to disable it.

The NYPD have not yet commented but the assassin Cole Maddox, a figure already wanted by local authorities, is strongly suspected.

Witnesses have described the explosion as, "powerful… like fireworks all going off at one time" and "shaped like a mushroom cloud".

Public well-wishes are already underway. Several get well cards have been sent to Mercy West by various well-wishers and supporters.

* * *

Reviews make my day... hint, hint


	13. Inferno

Anybody get the Grey's Anatomy reference from the "Rescue...not" chapter?

* * *

Everything is broken. Fragmented. Pieces.

They're flying. Swept off their feet by a roaring wave of sound, that gradually fades to a subdued beating in her ears.

Snap shots. That's what the scene reminds her of. Pictures that are snapped then filed away for later usage. Freeze frames of metal pieces and wooden beams hanging against an ashy sky with a dripping sun.

Kate can't focus.

_What happened to the others? Where's Castle?_

The words can't leave her mouth. Her throat is tainted, full of dust, and compressed.

Her cheek is resting against a slab of concrete. Is she moving? She's disjointed.

Flames lick at her chest, ribcage, lungs. Not enough air. Blindly sucking it in but the oxygen is disappearing from the air.

_Castle Castle Castle _

Her consciousness becomes hazy, frayed at the edges. Movement is limited, jerky.

Puppet. Marionette. Strings.

Everything burns. Hot coals of pain lodge in her chest, her heart. Everything hurts.

Heartbeat galloping. Pulse racing. Run for your life.

* * *

_The pain is in your mind. Fight it off._

That's what they always told him in Special Forces. That pain was a mental thing. Be strong and fight it off.

But Esposito is sure this type of pain wasn't just in his mind. It envelops him, licks at him, eats him alive.

His muscles are frozen in place, powerless to do anything but just accept it.

This was how he imagined being burned alive at the stake. Or being tortured by the enemy So, so agonizing.

He wants to cry out, shout for help. But maybe later.

Lucid thinking takes too much effort.

Esposito slides back into the blackness.

* * *

Ryan is vaguely aware of his surroundings.

Muted beeps. Scratchy feet. Antiseptically clean smells.

Hospital.

What the hell happened?

He can't remember. It hurts too much. His skin feels raw and his lungs feel clogged, blackened.

His skull feels ready to explode.

Jenny. He thinks about her and the fire in his veins ebbs slightly. Think about Jenny. You'll see her again. Any minute now.

Her image is superimposed on his brain, blocking out the pain.

Then black. Everything goes black.

* * *

Castle's blood is on fire.

But that doesn't matter. All he can think about is the explosion. Bomb. How he tried to reach Kate in those few precious seconds before everything blew. How he tried to grab her, hold her, shield her. He hopes it helped. Hopes he did some good.

Hopes she survived.

Then he's on fire again. Combusting. His blood turned to petrol.

He's fighting. Fighting to keep the leaden weight off his chest. His skin feels rubbed raw. Inferno.

Thinking is hard right now. Breathing takes effort.

But one thought pulses through his mind, thrums in his blood.

_Kate Kate Kate_

She has to be okay.

Because they deserve to have an always.

* * *

So I know in most situations like this, the author will focus mostly on Castle/Beckett but I always thought, whenever anybody in the team gets hurt (Castle or Beckett or whoever) it would affect the whole team which is why I made Esposito and Ryan get hurt in the bomb blast too.

If you think I should have only focused on Castle/Beckett, that's cool. But I thought the rest of the team gets some credit too.


	14. Everything in between

Waiting rooms are breeding rooms for despair and gloom.

People sit in stiff plastic chairs uncomfortable enough to give them spine damage while waiting for stone-faced doctors to relay vaguely related news. For some people, it's a routine which must be followed. For others, it's a living hell.

* * *

She is dragged out of the comfortable blackness, that blackness which had surrounded her and seeped into her mind gradually, eventually, fades. Something big and bold inside of her wakes up and rears its head, probing and prodding her consciousness into the light. That big, intense, way-too-white light that's shining directly above her. Light. There's light.

Which is how she knows she's awakened.

Not that it makes her feel better. Her eyes are gritty, her tongue scrapes over her teeth like sandpaper, and her body feels like it's been frozen solid then microwaved on high.

That light is real. It's shining down at her, attached to the ceiling alongside multiple other way-too-bright lights.

It hurts her eyes. But maybe that's just her eyes getting used to this bright new world.

She blinks.

Kate Beckett blinks.

That miniscule motion causes a figure to shoot up from his resting place and hurry over with a speed that might suggest she was going somewhere.

"Hey, Dad." She croaks. Her throat feels dry and useless. Thick and heavy.

Her dad presses a soft kiss on her forehead. She could feel tears slipping down his weathered cheek and into her tangled hair that slumps down her cheeks. Crying. Her dad was crying.

"Katie, welcome back." He settles into a chair beside her bedside, his strong posture and vivid smile such a contrast from the bland background of the hospital. She smiles back even though it hurts enough to send sharp inklings of pain up and down her skin.

"What –happened?" Her brain is slow, weighed down by how long she's been out of it.

Her father gives her such a tender look, it almost hurts to look at him. "It exploded, sweetheart. The bomb exploded."

She wonders briefly, not for the first time, what she had done to deserve this kind of hell. A thought occurs to her and she looks up sharply, only to have her father answer her unanswered question.

"The others are fine," he reassures her. "Few broken bones, few stitches, but you guys were lucky."

She's dreading to ask this one. "Any deaths?"

Jim hesitates, obviously debating whether he should his daughter with such heavy information minutes after she woke up. But she has to know. She _has_ to.

"Three."

"Who?" Dread. So much dread in her voice.

"Dylan Young. Two lab techs." She could tell from the tinge of grief in his voice that the death toll could easily have gone up to four, or maybe even five. She changes the topic, partly because she can't bear seeing the downward crinkling of his eyes and partly because she doesn't think she can handle it.

"Castle?" So, so much weight in that one word.

"Slight concussion, broken arm. He'll be fine."

She exhales a breath she hadn't even known she was holding and gives a watery chuckle, inching a bit lower on her hospital bed in relief. He was okay. They were okay.

* * *

The elevator doors _ding_ open and Castle rushes through, cradling his right arm to avoid any jostling. He's almost there. Almost to Beckett.

Three more doors … two more…

Then he's there.

Kate.

He takes a tentative step toward the doorknob. So close. Then he grips it and twists.

The door creaks open to reveal Kate sitting up and staring at her heart monitor. A steady line spikes across the monitor screen, representing her stable heart pulsing underneath her skin. Castle's relieved at the sight.

He stops at the doorway, staring at her. She looks so small in that nightgown, almost as if she's drowning in it. Her hair is pinned back to reveal a small butterfly bandage pinned to her forehead. She looks drained and delicate and dead beat. Not for the first time, Castle wonders how someone so strong can be so fragile.

The quiet scrape of the door alerts her to his presence and she turns around, curious.

Her face lights up at the sight of him. "Hey."

"Hey."

A pregnant silence ensues.

There are so many things he wants to say, so many things he wants to do. But he doesn't. He waits.

"How's Alexis and Martha?" She eventually asks.

He steps closer, bridging the gap between them. "Good. They're good. Your dad?"

"He went down to get something to eat." Kate vaguely gestured at the door. "He should be back soon."

Castle comes closer so that he's standing right by her bedside. "How are you?"

"I'm…" She trails off, for lack of a word, and shakes her head wearily. "I don't know, Castle. I mean, we just got blown up yesterday and almost died and now…"

"Hey," He touches the crown of her head, like a blessing about to be endowed and murmurs, "I'm right here, Kate. Right here."

She looks up at him with eyes brimming with emotion, voice rough and husky. "Thanks. You look like hell, you know that?"

"Yeah," Castle moves closer so that if Kate moves the slightest bit, their shoulders will brush. "But not as bad as you."

"I'm fine… just tired." She did look tired. Purplish rings brushed under her eyes. Her voice was raspy. Her whole weight sagged, as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Come," she croaks out a moment later. "Come closer."

He obliges and climbs into her bed, cradling her as if she was the most precious thing in his life. He holds her like she was made of porcelain.

"I can't sleep," Kate whispers. "Every time I close my eyes, I'm back in that shed, Maddox standing over me and that bomb…"

Castle takes a deep breath. Takes the plunge. "Then come home with me."

"I – wait, huh?" Her brain must still be on the effect of painkillers because, surely, he did _not_ say that.

"Just- just until you get better," he adds hastily. "I-if you want, o-of course -"

"Okay."

"I'm not trying to – wait, what?" Did she say yes? Did she agree?

"I said yes."

He beams at her, eyes lighting up like fireworks and she loves that she can make him this happy. So much joy.

"So when you wake up," Castle rations, "I'll be there instead of Maddox."

She doesn't say anything but the expression on her face is worth it. So full of hope and smiles and excitement.

Castle closes his eyes and listens to the thrumming of her heart; beating, alive and desperate. It's soothing, a beat that has a rhythm all on its own.

They sit there and listen to heartbeats and it's peaceful and calm and everything in between.

* * *

Review!


	15. Sorry doesn't cut it

I'm so sorry I haven't update in like months but real life got in the way and I've been so busy. Thanks to everyone to reviewed and favorited this story. You guys are the reason I'm doing this.

To make up for this unexpected hiatus, the next chapter (which should come out next week or so) will have a surprise twist.

So, without further ado... on with the show!

* * *

He watches her sleep.

He watches her sleep and believes, perhaps for only a second, they could have a happy ending. Happily ever after.

They're in a cab, headed for Castle's apartment. It had only been a few minutes into the ride when Kate, newly released from the hospital, succumbed to the lull of sleep. He watched as her eyes drooped lower and lower until, finally, she was curled on her side with her head resting on his lap, lulled by the humming of the cab engine, fast asleep.

Castle stares at her, not bothering to mask his wonder and adoration. He wonders how on earth he got so lucky to have this woman in his life.

She's cute when she sleeps, he decides. Messy hair, relaxed features, slightly parted mouth. He's used to her looking so focused, so dedicated on catching killers and keeping the city safe. Now, she looks calm. Peaceful.

Almost innocent.

* * *

She wakes up as they pull up near his apartment. Her brain is still foggy with the cloud of sleep so she's only dimly aware of Castle helping her out of the cab, the doorman opening the door for them, the ding of the elevator doors as they parted open.

She's fully awake by the time they arrive in Castle's loft. All the lights are lit, the smell of brewing coffee is in the air and the couch is heaped with twisted blankets. It feels homey. Cozy.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?" She turns around to face Castle who's looking at her with unmasked concern with hints of nervousness.

"Are you okay?"

A beat. Her standard reply of 'I'm fine' dies on her tongue. She doesn't want to lie to him. But she has no definite answer right now. She's tired, glad their ordeal with Maddox is over, but at the same time… she's wary. No, that's not it. Scared.

She's scared of what's coming next. Because they both know this is far from over.

So she says the only thing she can and hopes it's good enough. "I will be."

Castle nods and, with a tender expression on his features, pulls her into an embrace. She doesn't resist but merely folds herself into him, two jagged edges fitting together to produce a whole. Her head rests on his chest, hearing the steady beating of his heart, a metronome pounding with perfect rhythm.

She could have stayed like that forever. She really could have. Then her stomach growled. And reality in the form of hunger pains crashed over them.

Castle's eyes crinkle in amusement. "Hungry?"

"A little bit," she admits. She thinks back to the last meal she's had. That would have to be the breakfast she received from the hospital cafeteria this morning before she was discharged. A healthy meal plan hadn't exactly been on top of her priority list lately.

"Chinese?"

"Perfect."

She curls up on the couch, rifling through take-out menus – Castle's collection of fast food menus is diverse enough to give Michelle Obama a heart attack – while Castle began setting out plates and plastic utensils.

"Have you decided what you want?"

She closes the cardboard menus with a quick fold. "Egg rolls sound nice. Some of those chunky noodle things too."

He grins. "Extra fortune cookies for desert?"

"Of course."

"Of course."

Two lifetimes later, the doorbell rings and their food arrives. Castle bounds off the couch and yanks the door open, personally greeting the delivery boy by name. "Thanks for the food. See you later, Danny."

He kicks the door shut and holds up bags full of Chinese goodness. "Ready to feast, my lady?"

"I'd be happy to, good sir." She grins, doing a mock curtsy, and helps him unload the food onto the plates. "Alexis joining us?"

"I'm not sure. She's been upstairs chatting with Ashley all day." Castle pops his head upstairs and she hears him call, "Lex? Dinner!"

In a matter of few minutes, the redhead pads down the stairs, her eyes widening in surprised at the sight of Kate standing next to her father. "Hey, dad… Kate?"

"Alexis, good to see you again." Kate attempts a smile. She hasn't been unaware of the girl's frostiness lately and she's hoping to mend some bridges between them.

Alexis doesn't seem to have the same mindset, however, since she just juts her chin fraction of an inch higher and says icily, "Kate."

Castle, either miraculously oblivious or purposefully ignoring their situation, slings an arm around his daughter. "Kate's going to stay with us for a few days. Just to recover and everything."

Alexis' eyes narrow in suspicion but she wisely decides not to say anything. "Sure, dad."

"I'm gonna be in the kitchen. You two ladies can talk." Oblivous. Castle was oblivious.

Bad idea, Castle.

The moment Castle's footsteps turned toward the kitchen, Alexis bites her lip and stares at her. Alexis is wondering if she should say it now or save it for later. She opens her mouth – Kate cringes. She's run into burning buildings, looked at a serial killer right in the eyes, been the target of several bombs now, but right now she would face all those challenges again if that meant she didn't have to hear the whiplash of accusation about to leave the redhead's mouth.

Alexis clears her throat. And says something totally unexpected. "Hope you feel better, Detective." She turns to leave.

"Wait." Kate is so taken aback by the comment; she reaches forward and grabs the girl's shoulder. Alexis tenses.

"Look, Alexis, I know you and I haven't been the best of friends lately and I'm not sure why that is but I'm hoping-"

"What?" The girl's head snaps up, a sprung coil quivering with anger. "You don't _know_? Is that what you're telling me? You don't have a frigging _clue_?"

Kate blinks and feels her palms starting to sweat. "I –I -"

"He almost _died_, Kate. My dad almost died. Not for the first time, either. He's been in life threatening situations more times than frigging Superman and you don't have a _clue_?"

Alexis stalks toward her like a panther, her eyes resembling slits. "If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't come home with a new scar on his body every time. Or- or be pouring over case files at two in the morning instead of writing his new book. And I shouldn't be _praying_ and _hoping_ I don't get a call from Mercy General saying that my father's been shot by some deranged serial killer. He's not a cop, Kate! Don't you get that?"

The redhead finishes her outburst, her chest heaving, while Kate merely stands there in shock.

There were all sorts of replies Kate could have gone with. Everything from "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up?" to "I've been through worse, Alexis, and I haven't been killed yet" to "How many scars does he have? We can compare!", but she goes with none of the above, her least wise choice.

Her voice gets dangerously low as anger swells up inside her. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I know he's been hurt because of me? Shot and exploded and stabbed and god what knows what else! I _know_, Alexis!"

Alexis takes a step back because of her anger. Blinks owlishly at her. "Then why do you -"

"I've tried. I've tried to get him to step back, stop following me, but he's a grown man and it's his choice." Her voice drops an octave, now seeped with guilt. "It's my fault. I know that. That's the only thing I think about when I see him hurt. Just– what if? What if I was a better cop? I could have prevented this whole thing. Or-or a better _person_? Or just _better_?"

She takes a deep breath and resumes her talking, her voice now quiet as a whisper. "It kills me that he's getting hurt because of me and what I did. But there's nothing I can do, Alexis. I'm sorry."

The redhead walks toward her, her face full of remorse for what she had initially said. "I'm sorry, Kate. I-I just- "

"It's fine. Don't worry." Kate rubs soothing circles on her back. "Everything's going to be okay."

They stood that way, Alexis with her head bowed, Kate patting her on the back. They didn't know what else would have happened if Castle hadn't popped his head back in, carrying three bowls of Chinese takeout and drank in the scene.

"Everything okay in here?"

* * *

So I originally started this chapter a few weeks ago but I've been having trouble writing it. If there's any mistakes (you can tell I don't have a beta) that's my fault. Otherwise, review!


	16. News

So I decided to rewrite this chapter since I got so much questions on the last one. I thought I was being too case-heavy and was trying to inject some fluff but I could see where that threw some people off. So here's the 'next' chapter!

* * *

The evening was a quiet affair. The clinking of silverware and the gulping of Pad Thai were the only sounds that echoed in the spacious kitchen. Alexis kept her head down for most of the meal, only looking up when putting her plate in the sink. But the redhead did send her a tiny quizzical smile as she clamored up the stairs, a message saying, _Everything is okay, right?_

Kate had sent back a smile of her own. _Yes, everything's fine._

By the time they had finished eating, it was past eight and the sun was dipping past the horizon. They were just stacking the plates in the sink when Kate's phone gave a shrill ring.

Wiping her hands on dish towel, Kate swipes her phone off the countertop and flips it open, wincing when her torso bangs the edge. "Beckett."

"Detective Beckett, this is Captain Gates speaking."

Her heartbeat shoots up into the ionosphere. Why was Gates calling her? Her mind, like a guilt-ridden child's, directly started going through any actions done by her that could have potentially popped a red flag in the captain's eye. "Yes, Captain, is something wrong?" Beside her, Castle noticeably starts.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing," came the gravelly voice of Gates.

Kate blinks, slightly stunned. That the captain was personally concerned with her well-being had never particularly occurred to her. "I- yes, I'm doing well, thank you. The doctors gave me some painkillers so I should be fine." If you count a one-and-a-half inch scalp laceration along her hairline as well as some deeply bruised ribs and a couple new scars and burns to add to her bodily collage as fine, then sure, she's _fine_.

Gates clears her throat. "Glad to hear it, Detective. Now, the reason I called was," _Here we go_, thought Kate.

"- to inform you that you are, as well as the others on your team, are ordered to stay home until your injuries heal. Mandatory sick leave, detective. Not an option."

Kate is relieved. Here she was expecting desk duty or a suspension. "Understood, Captain."

"Good. I've already told Detectives Ryan and Esposito. I expect you all to stay home, rest, and eat something. No strenuous activity. Do I make myself clear?"

She smiles. "Crystal."

"Then I'll see you when you get back. Get better, detective."

"Thank you, sir." Kate hangs up and turns around to see Castle staring back at her with an expectant expression. "Well?"

"Gates called to see how I was doing. Who knew she actually liked us?"

Castle chuckles. "That's nice of her." Motioning toward the stack of dirty of plates in the sink, he hesitates. "Can you help me with this? I mean, I don't normally ask my guests to do the dishes but…" He gestured to his broken arm, stuffed in a sling, hanging uselessly by his side.

Kate is by his side in an instant. "Yeah, no problem." While she wasn't exactly in the prime of her health, her arms did have better motion. Except she still felt like she's been run over by semi truck and her back muscles protested anytime she turned around.

They do the dishes together. Castle somehow managing to wash each dish – with soap - while she loads it into the dishwasher. They finish in less than ten minutes.

"We make a good team." Castle remarks, wiping the extra water droplets that managed to spray his cast.

A small smile lifts her mouth. "Yeah, I guess we do."

They move toward the couch, Castle suggesting they pop in a movie. Kate grabs a bottle of water for her to drink – beer and painkillers really don't mix – when the doorbell rings and a fist pounds heavily on the steel painted door.

Kate glances over at Castle and raises her eyebrows, asking him a silent question. Castle shakes his head in reply. So he wasn't expecting visitors.

She briefly debates answering the door with her Glock. No, if the person is just a neighbor, he will be beyond creeped out. Maddox has made her too cautious for her own good. Castle comes up and joins her, brows drawing together in concern. Instead, she opts for the traditional "Who is it?"

Some more heavy pounding. "Yo, Beckett! Open up!"

Visibly relaxing, she grabs the doorknob and twists. Standing in front of them are Ryan and Esposito, impatient and eager, both of them outfitted in a layer of coats and bandages and splints. Ryan has a busted lip and crushed foot, putting him in a boot for the next few weeks. Esposito had fared no better, sporting a broken shoulder blade and a handful of broken ribs. All four of them looked like they've been in street fight where the bad guys had used them as a coloring page for blues and reds and purples.

Castle opens the door further to let them in. "What're you guys doing here?"

Esposito grins at both of them. "Well, we were looking for Beckett so we stopped by her place,"

"- except she wasn't there." Ryan interrupts. "So, we thought the most obvious choice would either be your dad's place,"

"- but you told us he was out of town,"

"– or Castle's. So we came here." Ryan finishes with a triumphant smile. "So how're _you_ two doing?"

Kate shakes her head impatiently. "Never mind us, what are you doing here? Why did you need to see me so badly?"

Shrugging out of his coat awkwardly, Ryan hands her a file. "We thought you might want to see this."

"What is it?" Castle peers over her shoulder as she flips through it. It contained pictures of the bomb explosion, the aftermath, EMT accounts, and witness statements. Standard police report.

"Look on the third page." Esposito orders. "Bottom left."

On the very bottom of the page, written in fine print with an asterisk, are the words, _Common materials not used; specific, unusual. _Kate glances back up the page. The comment is referencing the bomb that Maddox had designed. It hadn't been made with the typical pyrotechnic materials, indicating that stuff could be _traced_. Find the maker. Find Maddox. Booyah.

Ryan's excitement leaked into his words. "Bomb was electronic. It had traces of zinc oxide and potassium chloride, powered using polymer cables and detonated with a timer. The polymer cables had to be specially ordered. So we talked to the maker and got a P.O box." Ryan tapped the copy of the order form.

"' Located on the corner of 32nd and Central.'" Kate read aloud. "Maddox must have lived nearby for easy access to the P.O box. Maybe that's where he went after he discharged the bomb." She snapped the folder shut. "Have unis canvas the area for any empty apartment buildings and storage sheds. Maybe he's still there."

Esposito gives her a crooked grin. "Already did. They left twenty minutes ago."

Kate bit her lip, deep in thought. "This doesn't make any sense. Why would he kidnap us if he wouldn't kill us? That bomb wasn't big enough to kill all of us. Those three people only died because they were standing too close. Castle and I were nearly fifty meters away."

"So, what, it was a warning?" Castle questioned. "Telling us to back off?"

Kate reflects back to her stabbing. Maddox had explicitly warned her to stop pursuing the case, telling her that he will get revenge if she doesn't. He had even intimidated her into not telling anyone. "He doesn't want anyone to find out the truth." She said softly. She crossed her arms in frustration and felt like punching her fist through the wall. "So we _still_ don't know who's behind this!"

Castle instantly slips an arm around her waist, a gesture of comfort. "You okay?"

Kate purses her lips. "Just… annoyed."

"Don't worry boss." Ryan gives her a smile. "We'll find the guy."

She attempts a smile back. Attempts being the key word.

A series of vibrations resonate in someone's pocket. A phone is ringing. Everyone pats their pockets until Esposito finally fishes his out. "Esposito."

The voice of the speaker is clearly heard through the phone. "Uh, Detective Esposito, this is Officer Underwood. You sent me and my partner to check the area around, um, a P.O box on Central and 32nd?"

The tension in the room immediately spikes up. Esposito places his phone on the table and hits the speaker button. The others crowded around it, desperate for news, like hobos huddling around a fire.

"Did you find something?" Ryan interjects.

Some shuffling in the background. Underwood clears his throat. "Well, uh, we did find an apartment block. It was about to be torn down so it was empty."

Kate gripped Castle's hand so hard her knuckles turned white. _Please tell me they found something. Anything._ Castle squeezed back, his face just as fraught as hers.

"Did you find something?" Ryan repeats.

"Yeah, we did. Someone. And h-he matches the description of Cole Maddox you gave us."

Kate's heart accelerates. Could they be that lucky? Had those beat cops caught Maddox red-handed?

"He's dead."

What?

"Can you repeat that, Officer Underwood?" Castle casts a frantic glance in her direction. "Please repeat that."

"He's dead, detectives. Did you hear me? Cole Maddox is officially dead. Gunshot wound to the head."

No.

No.

The others voices fade behind her. They're clamoring around the phone, shouting for more confirmation. She suddenly only aware of her breathing, shallow and quick. Her fingers are trembling and her knees threaten to buckle.

Their only lead.

Their only lead for her mother's case.

Gone.

Dead.

* * *

I killed off Cole Maddox because I thought his character was starting to drag. Don't really know if this is bad or not... but I did enjoy writing this :) Again, sorry if the last chapter confused you and I hope this one answered your questions. Review!


	17. Take Me Away

ATTENTION: Please make sure that you have read the previous chapter before this. Otherwise, this won't make sense.

* * *

Kate shivered, although she had long gotten used to the morgue's chilly temperatures. The fluorescent lights flickered above her, washing the countless corpses assembled here in a harsh, surreal light.

The body was laid out on the cool metal table with the eyes closed and a sheet draped over his body. Only the face was visible for identification. In death, Cole Maddox didn't look nearly as intimidating as his career would've suggested. His face muscles were relaxed, his square jaw unclenched and the sharp contours of his cheekbones slack. His face, surgically or unintentionally, was the prototype of a typical Caucasian male, the type of guy she could've passed everyday on the subway and never noticed. He looked, Kate realized, like an ordinary guy. An ordinary guy who had died of bad luck – mugged and shot on the way home; drank too much on a night out with the guys and died of alcohol poisoning; one of the thousand unfortunate victims she encountered in her work.

She was only vaguely aware of the activities going on behind her. Castle standing behind her, as always, a staunch pillar of support; Lanie bustling around, pretending to be busy while sneaking concerned looks from the corners of her eyes. She would deal with them later.

Gripping her arms tightly around herself, her gaze drifted down from the short fringe of Maddox's dark hair to the white paper clipped to the side of the table. It was the standard form used to mark and identify the cadavers. _Name: Cole Maddox, Age: N/A, Cause of Death: Gunshot wound to head, Time of Death: Sept 18, 8:30 am…_

"Where are those guys?" She asked to no one in particular, her voice sounded too loud. "Those guys who found him?" Her pulse throbbed in her ears.

Castle slipped behind her and rested his hand on the small of her back, making her unconsciously lean against him. "Officer Underwood and his partner were questioned by Ryan and Esposito. They've probably finished up and left by now."

"Why would anyone kill him?" she murmured. She couldn't tear her eyes from the body.

"My guess? He was a loose end and the guy who's on top of all this wanted to get rid of him," said Castle honestly.

"Yeah," she said, distracted. "You're probably right."

Lanie hurried forward, her forehead wrinkling in anxiety. "Girl, why don't you head on home? Take the day off. Didn't Gates give you sick leave?"

_Gates didn't account on him dying, _she thought. It was only when Lanie suddenly quieted that she realized she'd said that out loud. "I'm okay, Lanie." Kate said softly. "I'll be fine."

Lanie hardly looked unconvinced but wisely changed the topic. "Maddox here died from a GSW to the head. Looks like close range. Besides from that, tox screen came back clean and there's no unidentified trace on him. We're still trying to contact any family he might've had."

Castle cleared his throat. "Ryan and Esposito are at the crime scene right now. They'll call us when they have something." He rubbed her back in soothing circles.

"Okay." Her voice still sounded too loud for her own ears. Biting back a trembling sigh, she dipped her head onto Castle's shoulder and let it rest there, breathing in the scent of his cologne. _Take me away._

* * *

The AGW Development Co. had long wanted to tear down that old eyesore of an apartment building and put up a shopping mall in its place. When their request finally got approved by the committee chair himself, AGW had been eager to start construction and had already torn down the northeastern corner with a wrecking ball a week ago. Maddox's apartment just bordered that portion. It was likely torn in half by now. That was why Ryan and Esposito were more than slightly pissed off at AGW.

The block where Officer Underwood had found the body was known for shady dealings and late night happenings. The apartment building was set against an alley and some small retail shops. The P.O box was just a block over.

"I'm guessing he wasn't the decorating type." Esposito murmured, glancing around at the sparsely decorated room. With only a mattress on the floor and a chair near the window, it looked as if no one had ever lived here.

Maddox's apartment was trampled with dirt and saw dust with half of the walls torn down haphazardly, billowing specks of plaster in the air. It was absolute mess but thankfully, Maddox had grouped his possessions in the far room, away from the debris.

Ryan poked at the lumpy mattress with his pen to see if anything was stuffed inside. "Poor Beckett. Imagine investigating the murder of someone who tried to shoot you," he spoke.

"No one ever said our jobs were easy," The Hispanic detective retorted, but then his expression softened. "But I can't see how she could handle it either."

"You never imagine these types of things happening to you, you know?" Esposito continued. "I mean, a guy tries to kill you and then you have to investigate his murder? Sounds like some sick cosmic joke."

Ryan scribbled a note down on his notepad, marking the chalk outline on the floor. He looked up at his partner and said firmly, "Beckett's got Castle. And us. She won't be in this alone."

Esposito nodded. "Got that right, bro."

They spend another ten minutes rifling through Maddox's belongings until they finally concluded there was nothing crucial to the case left to be found. The lab techs were long gone; they had arrived early in the morning and cleared out long before them. They, too, had reported it was unlikely anything substantial to the case would be found.

The two detectives turned to leave, their shoes leaving dusty tracks in the dirt stained floor, when Esposito spun around and stared at something in the floor. Half buried by chucks of dry wall was a metal contraption. It had a black lid and a plastic container. Because it had been coated with white dust, they hadn't spotted it.

Esposito bounded over and pried it out, gently blowing on it. "Yo!"

Ryan peered over his shoulder. "Looks like… a paper shredder? Do you think it was left here by the owners?"

"Maybe, but the owners cleared out more than a month ago and they never reported any missing items. Maddox's probably." Esposito pried the lid off with his pen and looked inside, spying a shred of paper that had gotten stuck in the blades. It bore faint letters and a half a row of numbers. "Bro, check this out."

Ryan flattened the piece of paper and smoothed out the wrinkles, letting the afternoon sun wash over it. _...posit…ount number: 2173… _The rest was lost.

No. It couldn't be. No freaking way they could be that lucky.

Esposito was the first to break the awed silence, grinning. "Deposit. That's the first word. The rest is part of an account number. Maybe even the guy who's behind all this."

"Jackpot." Ryan whistled, eyes crinkling with triumph.

"Beckett is gonna like this." Esposito bumped fists with his partner, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "Can't believe the lab rats missed this."

"We can give them hell later. Come on, let's go." They hurried out of the apartment and soon merged into late afternoon traffic. Beckett wouldn't believe this.

* * *

Captain Victoria Gates sat behind her desk, wringing her hands nervously while mentally preparing herself for the phone call she was about to make. Finally, after taking a deep breath and steely resolving herself, she picked up the phone and dialed. She hated doing this.

He answered on the second ring. "Mikhail Donovan, underpaid and overworked state prosecutor, at your service."

His humorous greeting gave her a small smile. "Mickey, it's Victoria. Victoria Gates."

Mickey chuckled. "Well, well, if it isn't the big shot at the 12th. Long time, no hear." Mikhail Donovan had been born to a Russian mother and an American father, thus his unique first name. He had the instincts of a pit bull and the face of Bradley Cooper, a combination that had led to a remarkable number of convictions under his belt that had made most defense lawyers want to slip cyanide in his breakfast cereal. He had recently retired.

Gates cleared her throat. "Listen, there's no easy way to ask this but …"

"Use your words." Mickey said mockingly.

"Will you a take a case for me?" The words came out in a rush, stumbling over each other's heels and sounding like a blur.

A pregnant silence ensued.

Then, "Vicky, you know I can't-"

"I don't even know if there is going to be a case," she interrupted. "It's a case that my team has been working on lately – actually it's been going on for years now - and I'm not even sure if they're going to find any evidence to prosecute but I have a feeling they're really close and -"

"Hold on, hold on." Mickey instructed. "This wouldn't be the dead FBI agent case, would it? The one with the dead cops and snipers involved, by any chance?"

"Afraid so."

She could see his forehead wrinkle in thought. "Wait, isn't the daughter of one of the victims working that case?"

"Yes, one of the victims was her mother."

"Jesus, Vicky. Rumors have been going around, saying you guys are close to finding out the perp. From the looks of it, sounds like it was someone high up. No one in the AG's office wants to even _touch_ that case. Who do they think did it?"

Gates looked out her window, where she could see Beckett and her team bent over what looked like tiny shreds of paper. Lots of them. "They don't know yet. But if or when they do, will you take the case?"

"I'm retired." He said flatly. "Ask someone else."

She smiled weakly. "You know you're the best, Mick. Otherwise I wouldn't ask you."

"You know how I feel about flattery."

She opened her mouth but was spared from answer by a yell outside her door. Looking up, she saw the others crowded around the table, frantically shouting something and holding up pieces of taped-together paper. Snippets of conversation could be heard.

"… bank number…"

"- no way!"

"… a senator?"

"- can't be right!"

Gates spoke hastily into the phone, "I'll have to call you back, Mickey." With that, she cradled the receiver and exited her office to talk to her team.

* * *

Hey guys! They finally found out about the senator! So, if you haven't noticed, I have simplified the Beckett's case by a lot. Frankly, I found it a bit hard to follow but that's just me. I included the paper shredder part 'cause I thought that was really original. Hope you liked what you read!


	18. State v Bracken

Hey guys! Here's another chapter... a week late but who's counting? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one.

* * *

"Counselors," Judge Hawthorne began. "We're here for the trial of State v. William Bracken. Now, I want a clean, fair trial here. No dog and pony show in front of the media. Is that clear?" The judge, looking every bit of the lawgiver he was in his black robes and feathery hair, narrowed his eyes at the mass of cameras and reporters crowding the back of his courtroom.

Mikhail Donavan inclined his head. "Yes, Your Honor."

"Crystal, Your Honor." Bracken's lawyer chorused.

Judge Hawthorne nodded. "Very well, the State may give its opening statement."

Donavan stood up and smiled. In a perfect world, Mikhail Donavan would grace the cover of every GQ magazine, with his ice blond hair and confident strut and lopsided grin. He was, Kate realized later, the guy you would go to with all of your hardships, believing that he could fix it. He was the guy you could trust, which was essentially what Mikhail was trying to convey to the jury – that he was a person who wouldn't lie to you.

Donavan paced to the edge of the jury box and smiled at every member in that box, making sure every eye was on him. "When I was in the third grade, I had to do a project for my social studies class. I had to pick a famous person, dress up like him or her, and even do a speech. Well, I, being really interested in chimps back then, chose Joan Goodall."

He smiled at the audience, captivated by this man who seemed to tell stories for a living. "Now, for those of you who aren't closet zoologists like me, Joan Goodall was an expert in chimps. So, I did my research, dragged my mom to get a costume and even made note cards for my speech. Well, that was when I found out that Dr. Goodall was doing a presentation here in a city a few hours from here the next day. I got it into her head that I should _meet _Dr. Goodall."

Donavan stuffed his hands in his pockets in an 'aw, shucks' kind of way that brought a smile onto every woman's face. "I begged my mom for hours to let me meet her and, you know what? She actually went with it. My mom made the three hour drive so I could get a good grade in a third grade project."

He walked to the center of the room, every eye trained on him. Cameras snapped. "Kate Beckett used to have a mom like that. A mom who would do anything for her children. A mom driven and loyal to no end. A woman who would follow her guts to find out the truth. A truth that eventually got her killed."

A small gasp came from the jury. Mikhail gave the guilty woman a comforting smile before continuing. "You heard right, ladies and gentlemen. Kate Beckett lost her mom, Johanna Beckett, because of the truth. The greater good. Johanna Beckett gave someone a chance by taking on a deceptively simple case and then what happened? She got stabbed to death in an alleyway. A death _this_ man was responsible for." He pointed.

All eyes swiveled towards the calm figure of William Bracken. The senator stared expressionlessly at the wall, his face betraying nothing.

"This man," Mikhail spitted out, his voice suddenly infused with rage, "is responsible for the deaths of multiple people and numerous accounts of blackmail, fraud, and attempted homicide. This man, this man whom you've trusted to be your senator, has betrayed and hurt countless people. Kate Beckett whose graduation was only attended by her father. Joe Armen's children, who had to get used to talking to their dad only in through their prayers."

He paused; the courtroom was deathly quiet. "The defense will argue that Bracket thought it was the right thing to do, the only _choice_ he thought he had. But how many people have to get steamrolled because of his _choice_?

"When you hear the evidence presented to you, ladies and gentlemen, you will surely, without a doubt, realize that the right thing to do, the only _humane_ thing to do, is to condemn this man to finally take responsibility for the choices he has made."

Mikhail finished and walked back to his seat. He folded his hands calmly on the desk and looked up at the judge. No talked for a moment. The only sounds present were the shuffling of feet and the snapping of cameras.

Then Judge Hawthorne cleared his throat. "The defense may present their opening statements now."

Bracken's lawyer, a woman called Sue DuFresne, took the cue. It was rumored that if you so much as joked about her first name, she would personally nail your balls to the wall. Sue stood up and fanned her face. "Wow, can I have a moment, Your Honor? Mr. Donavan's story got me a bit teary-eyed. Those chimps and all."

She took a cleansing breath and smiled prettily at the judge. "All better." Walking slowly to the front of the room, she turned towards the jury. "Mr. Donavan certainly has a future as a storyteller, doesn't he? Unfortunately, that's all that is. Stories. Stories without any evidence to back it up."

Sue purposefully laid a hand on Bracken's shoulder, her nails digging into the fabric of his Armani suit. "William Bracken has lived honorably all his life. Even when he was a high schooler, he maintained a 4.2 GPA and was the president of the student council. When he decided he wanted to go into politics, he won by a landslide. How? Because people knew William wouldn't lie to them, that he was a trust and honorable man. Hell, he doesn't even have a parking ticket."

A disbelieving snort came from the back of the room, causing sniggers to break out. Sue ignored it. "When the State presents their evidence, you will see that it can all be easily explained away. Purely circumstantial with no motive to back it up. After all, it's not like my client is a police detective who has a reputation for spontaneous actions -"

Mikhail was out of his seat like a bullet. "Objection! Building prejudice against a future witness."

"Sustained." Hawthorne slapped his gavel against the wood.

"Withdrawn." Sue said without hesitation. It was too late; the courtroom was already buzzing and too much attention was being drawn to a certain detective who, as per tradition, wasn't even in the room.

The judge peered at the defense lawyer over his bifocals. "You may continue your opening statement, counselor. Or if you're finished, I will allow the first witness to be called."

"You know what, Your Honor?" Sue looked around slowly, drawing attention to the situation and smiling radiantly. "I think I am."

"Very well." Hawthorne nodded. "Mr. Donovan, you may call your first witness."

Mikhail got to his feet and glanced subtly around the room until his eyes landed on the door in which she would enter through. "The State calls Kate Beckett to the stand."

* * *

So I really wanted to switch up the pov's for this one, instead of having it in Kate's pov, I decided to do put it in one of the lawyers'. This story is coming to an end soon - I'm thinking a few more chapters before the end. Review!


	19. State of Grace

It's been six hours.

Mikhail rubbed his face tiredly with one hand, his head drooping onto his chest. It's been six hours since the jury has gone in to confer and he's spent every minute of it trying to convince himself they could win this. He blew a whoosh of air out of his teeth, rubbing his hands on his pants. Then he tapped out a rhythm with his shoe. He bobbed his head to the beat of an imaginary song.

"Are you always this frustrating when you're waiting for a verdict?" Gates murmured by his side.

"Only when it's the case of the century." He replied. This, he said to himself, is why he had retired. "Where'd the others go?"

Gates' eyes closed for a few brief seconds then flickered back open. "What others?"

"You know, your detectives. Plus that famous author guy." he shifted in his seat for the thousandth time, trying to get more comfortable. From the amount of time he's spent waiting in these courtroom benches, he'd be surprised if he hadn't gotten spine damage from these wooden prisons.

"Beckett and Castle went on a coffee run. Ryan is going home for a shower and a change of clothes. Esposito is ringing up the guys at the precinct for any news." Gates conferred with a wry chuckle. "Basically, they're doing everything they can not to go insane from waiting."

Mikhail laughed quietly. "Well, they're gonna have to try harder. See that guy over there?" He pointed to a short, rotund man walking past them. The man was holding a slip of paper and pulling out his cellphone. "That guy's the court clerk. That paper he was holding? That's the jurors' lunch orders. Looks like they're gonna be in there for a while."

Gates was quiet for a minute. Then, "You ever miss it?"

"Practicing law? Nah, I'm over it." He shook his head for added emphasis, then partly to get off the subject; he tapped his finger against his chin and asked conversationally, "Say, what's going on between that writer guy and that female cop?"

"You mean Beckett and Castle?" She sat up straight and a wry smile pushed up her lips. "You asking me to gossip, Donovan?"

"No, I'm merely asking you to _pass_ on gossip." At her teasing laugh, he sighed dramatically. "Oh, c'mon, Vic. I'm asking about cop gossip. Can't you see how bored I am and take pity on me?"

"Oh, all right, if it gets you shut up." Gates sighed. "People think they're sleeping together. But I don't think so. Beckett doesn't seem like the type to sleep around."

"You like her, don't you?" He nudged his friend's arm with an impish grin. "You approve of her?"

Gates inclined her head in a slight nod. "She reminds me of me. Spitfire personality. She'll make a great captain."

His eyebrows shot up. "Captain? You're retiring?"

"God, no. Not now. I, for one, don't retire at the young age of 52." It was her turn to nudge him, causing him to mock scowl at her. "But when I do retire, she'll probably get the position."

Mikhail was saved from answering by the arrival of Esposito. The Hispanic detective was wearing a thinly veiled grimace, saying to Gates, "No new cases yet, sir."

Gates shrugged. "I didn't expect any."

Esposito eased onto the opposite bench and tapped his fingers on the hardwood. "Jury still out?"

"Yeah, they'll be a while." Mikhail did his best to offer a reassuring smile but Esposito frowned deeper, staring at something over his heads.

"Then why is the defense attorney coming over here?"

"_What_?" He spun around to indeed see the slim figure of Sue DuFresne striding purposefully towards him. Standing up, he did his best to straighten out his tie and say sharply, "Yes, Counselor?"

Sue gave him a look, tossing him a wrapped chocolate croissant into his lap. A croissant that costs less than two bucks at the bakery across the street; he knew this from personal experience. "Here, peace treaty. Lighten up, will you?"

He gave the croissant to Gates and approached closer. "Did you need something, Sue?"

She glared at him for a moment then jerked her head towards one of the conference rooms down the hall. "How about we take this somewhere more private?"

"Why? Is this of a particularly sensitive nature?" He asked diplomatically.

"No, but that cop looks like he wants to shoot me right now." Sue gestured towards Esposito who was staring at them with narrowed eyes.

A bark of a laugh escaped him. "All right, we'll talk over there." Silently, he shot Esposito a look, telling him to _cool it_. It would only fuel the flames of the rivalry between cops and defense attorneys. He and Sue started walking across the lobby, Sue's heels clipping on the linoleum floor. When they arrived in the small conference room, he shut the door and locked it to prevent unwanted visitors. "So what's this about?"

Sue sat down in the nearest chair and bade him to do the same. She leveled a gaze at him, clear and steady, and proclaimed, "A plea bargain."

"Someone's getting nervous…"

"Hardly," she snorted. "My client would just like to get this over with as fast as possible. So I'm proposing a nolo."

Mikhail did his best to hide his surprise. A _nolo contendere_ was when the defendant neither admitted nor disputed the charge. Not a guilty charge, but the defendant understood that there was enough evidence to convict and therefore went with a nolo. A nolo didn't require a jury to agree. It carried the same implications as a guilty plea and therefore, it was good enough for him.

"Fifty to sixty years, tops." Sue dealt.

"Fifty five to sixty." He shot back.

"Fifty three to sixty. Final offer."

They both stood up, leveling off, neither of them breaking eye contact. Finally, Mikhail smiled and stuck out a hand. "Deal. The State accepts your plea bargain."

"I'll tell the judge. We have to make sure he agrees." Sue gave him one last smile, this time genuine, and hurried out the door, him close behind her. He had to tell the others. The waiting was over.

* * *

So I know this was a short chapter but the story is wrapping up! A nolo contendere is a real legal term. I know some of you guys were expecting a life sentence, or an all-or-nothing thing like that but I know in real life it doesn't always work out that way which is why I did a nolo. As for Mikhail, I think he brought some much-need dynamic to Gates' character. What do you guys think?


	20. Sources

Barney Dumont hated croutons. It was bad enough that his boss had assigned him to cover the Crouton Festival in Queens – honestly, no one has even heard of this – but to do it when there was a so much more appetizing story just blocks away was just cruel.

Sighing, he aimed his camera at the hastily made, butcher paper sign announcing the festival and clicked. This was so not how he had imagined his journalism career to turn out. When he had been a freshman majoring in Communications, he had listened, wide-eyed and fresh-faced, believing with everything in him that he would make a difference and report the truths. He still believed that but he was now slightly more realistic.

His phone vibrated and he flipped it up to his ear. "Barney Dumont."

Kennedy Pace, his boss, answered. She had the body of a Playboy model and the brains of a nuclear physicist, which is how she had become so good at her job. Rumor was, she got her sources to spill by picking them up in bars and bringing them to her apartment. "Dumont, I need you to go over to the courthouse on Sixth right now. There's a huge trail going on and I need someone to cover it."

He could hardly believe it. "I thought McCoy was covering that."

"Turns out his wife is in labor so he's at the hospital. You up for it, or do I have to call on some other pansy-faced rookie?" Oh, how he loved his boss.

"I got it, boss. You can trust me." He sounded like some second-stringer player who's been spending way to much time on the bench and was just jumping up and down for a chance. _Let me in, Coach. I can play._

"Mess this one up, and I'll nail your balls to the wall." Pace threatened and hung up. Barney grinned and started putting away his camera. The courtroom was only a few blocks away. If he ran there, he could make it in time for the closing statements.

Exactly eight minutes later, Barney arrived at the courthouse, breathless and sweaty but smiling. He had run so fast, Jesse Owens would have been proud. He slipped in the back rows and squished himself between a camera guy and an anchor. Looking around, it seemed like he'd made it in time for the outcome to be read. Barney pulled out his notepad and steadied his pen.

The judge, a man who looked like he spent more time in front of the TV than on a treadmill, cleared his throat gruffly. "The counselors on this case have agreed on a nolo contendere. Their preposition was fifty three to sixty years for Mr. Bracken. I give fifty eight years with no parole as his sentence." He banged his gravel. "This case is now closed."

Noise erupted. The media furiously began shouting questions and flashing pictures. The people began collecting their coats and bags. The judge exited the room through a side door. Barney was taking furious notes, his notepad smeared with ink, and occasionally jabbing a journalist with his elbow to ask a quick question.

"Hey, who should I be talking to if I'm covering this case?" He asked hastily, his pen still jotting down notes.

The journalist, some big shot from the _Times _judging by his nametag, rolled his eyes, saying patronizingly, "You want to talk to the lawyers. The witnesses and the consultants, too, if they've been let out yet. The prosecutor's name is Mikhail Donovan. Defense is Sue DuFresne. Jeez, don't you know anything?"

Barney ignored the last barb. "Where can I find them?"

"Well the prosecutor is near the main entrance and I think the lawyer for the defense already went home. No clue on the witnesses."

The man gave him one last smirk before walking out. Barney tucked his notepad into his pocket and started looking around. The man was right - the prosecutor was completely swamped with cameras and microphones swarming around him; there was no way Barney would be able to get within ten feet of that guy. The defense lawyer was nowhere to be found… which left the witnesses.

He grabbed a paralegal who was trying to escape the crowds. "Hey! Where can I find a witness or a consultant?"

The paralegal scratched his head. "Well, most of them went off like a shot as soon as they heard the case was done. Sorry, buddy, you came too late." Damn, his boss was gonna kill him. Or nail his balls to the wall. He had no doubt she was going to take him up on her promise if he didn't bring back a story.

"Are you sure there's no one left?" Barney pleaded. Maybe it was his I-don't-want-my-boss-to-kill-me look, or maybe it was the sheer desperation in his eyes that made him clutch the guy's arm too tight. Either way, the paralegal's eyes softened. Sighing, he jutted out a chin towards the inside the courtroom.

"I think I saw a cop still in there. Her name is Kate Beckett. From what I've heard, this chick is the driving force behind all this."

Barney's eyebrows furrowed together. "Her name was in the news a couple times. Didn't her mom kick the bucket because of this senator guy?"

The paralegal nodded wisely. "Yep. Apparently, she got enough evidence to bring Bracken to trial. You can try talking to her but I doubt she'll give anything to chew on. She's been fielding away cameras all day." Must be tough to watch the guy who murdered your mom standing right in front of you, Barney thought.

"Thanks, man." He gave him a grin then bolted to the courtroom. Sure enough, Kate Beckett was still in there along with some other guy. He straightened himself up and cautiously approached the detective. "Detective Beckett, can I ask you -"

"Look," she interrupted. The detective's pretty face immediately darkened at the sight of him. She seemed pretty pissed off. He was guessing reporters didn't make her Favorite People list. "Whatever detail you're going to ask me about the trial, you're better off asking the lawyers. I'm not giving you a quote."

"Actually," Barney replied, boldly staring at her in the eyes, "I don't wanna know about the trial. I wanna know about you."

"Forget it, kid." The man beside the cop said firmly. He looked familiar. Hadn't he seen him on some book jackets somewhere? "We're not interested." The couple began walking away.

Barney chewed on his lip, watching the pair brush by him, and took the plunge. If you couldn't get a source to talk, get under her skin. "Do you think your mom would be proud of you?"

As he'd predicted, Kate Beckett froze. She slowly swiveled around, glaring at him. "_What?_" Her voice was icy enough to reverse global warming.

He approached closer, aware that her partner – the man from the book jackets – was staring at him as if he was torn between laughing at his audacity or pummeling him into a pulp because of it. He stuck with it. "You heard me. Do you think she'd be proud? I mean, if _my_ mom was murdered and I caught her killer… she'd be – well – I don't know. What about you?"

Kate Beckett was staring at him as if he'd grown a third head, but when she opened her mouth, her voice carried considerably less venom. "I think… she _would_ be proud of me." Her lips rose in a nostalgic smile. "But then she'd probably yell at me for putting myself in danger for this guy."

He returned a chuckle. "So you don't have any regrets on this case?" He noticed that her partner was looking at her closely too.

She shook her head. "I guess not. There are some things that were a bit… challenging that made me want to stop investigating," Her boyfriend coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'sniper' and 'bomb'. Beckett continued. "But I'm glad I got the guy. It's time to move on, you know?"

Barney let a smile erupt on his face. He could just see the story now. "Thank you, Detective. It's been a pleasure talking to you." He stuck out a hand.

Kate Beckett shook his hand firmly. "You too, uh…"

"Barney. Barney Dumont." He, a fresh-faced rookie new to the journalism scene, grinned back at her. "Look me up. I'll be famous one day."

The last he saw of the couple was the pair walking out together, shoulders bumping, hands brushing, smiles mingling. He saw Kate rise up on her tippy-toes and plant a kiss on her partner's cheek. The guy's eyes went wide. _A romantic twist_, he decided. _A nice ending to the story._

* * *

__Thought I mix it up a bit by telling the story in a journalist's point of view. Tell me what you think.


	21. Guidebooks

"I've got a better one," Kate gasps, choking with laughter. They were both sprawled out on Castle's floor, the ceiling spinning and a bottle between them. What was first a celebratory drink turned out to be a series of shots. A bad idea for tomorrow morning but what better way to commemorate a successful case?

Sending her a wicked grin, he downs another shot. "Do you really, detective?"

She hiccups her way back to articulation. "Freshman year, I was arrested by campus PD for public intoxication and public indecency."

His eyes bulges as his mind tried to squelch the mess of mental images her words provided. "Not quite what I was thinking, but at least it goes with the theme here." He spread an arm to indicate the beer bottles. "What happened?"

Kate shrugs. "Got my ass tossed into jail for a night until my parents came to bail me out. It went pretty smoothly since I was a straight-A kid and it was my first offense."

"Two lawyers as parents can help too." Castle mused.

She tips the neck of a bottle in his direction as acknowledgement. "My parents had steam coming out of their ears. They made me promise that I would never do this again, or, according to my dad, that if this happened again, just don't call them to bail me out." A chuckle escaped her lips.

"That one was good but I think I take the cake for this one." Castle brags.

She leans back the neck of her beer bottle, sipping slowly as her eyes meets his. "Alright. Let's see if your money's where your mouth is, hotshot."

"You know about the police horse story right?"

"The one where you stole a police horse naked?"

"Yeah, well, something a few days before that. It wasn't illegal-ish but you'll get a kick out of it." He clears his throat dramatically and began his story with a theatric flourish of his hands. "My friends and I were all in a cab heading home when I decided that the night was too young to turn back now. So we all decided to… well… " He bends down to whisper in her ear.

She snorts in an attempt to hold back her laughter, then gives up and collapses into a fit of giggles. "You decided to _lick_ the Statue of Liberty? Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack." Castle declares. He drops his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "For the record, it tasted like old pennies."

She lets out another peal of laughter. "Okay, you beat me. You have officially done more stupid things than me."

She reaches over for the bottle, her arm arching over his chest, and nabs the neck of the bottle. Her hair tickled his nose. It smelled like cherries. He blows on the loose strands. She looks down, biting down a laugh. She snatches a lock of her hair with her other hand and flicks him on the nose. He sticks her tongue out at her and grabs her hand to keep her from doing it again.

It was only then she noticed how very close they were. Less than six inches apart. She could make out each individual line on his face. Castle's eyes darkens just slightly.

"Castle," says Kate but the words she wanted to say died on her tongue, disintegrated by the heat of his gaze. _Don't look at me like that. _Because the truth scared her. She loved him. In that… letting him have the last piece of pizza, pretend to like his taste in music, chasing down each other on New Year's to share a kiss in the rain… unfortunate way that makes her hate him, love him. And it scares and excites and makes her downright nervous about what's gonna happen next

Relationship was a four syllable word for 'here's me offering my heart on a silver platter; feel free to crush it like Play-doh and enjoy'. She wishes there was a guidebook for relationships.

Castle dips his head so that their breaths mingle with each others. She can taste the alcohol on their tongues, could see it fuel their desire. He wanted it. She wanted it. Badly. So badly it burns. But no, not like this. Call her old fashioned but the start of their relationship won't be over a bottle of Samuel Adams.

A guidebook to relationships would sell millions. A rulebook so you could know when you've crossed a line, how to make that first step, how to know when he's waited too long and given up on you. But Castle hasn't. Never. And maybe, when it comes to rules and guidelines, there are none. Maybe it's better if she figures it out for herself.

She looks at him straight in the eye, feeling the atmosphere rolling, shifting around them like heat waves, stretching into something that could have the potential to be something great. "Castle," she says. "Ask me out first."

He smiles then, a full blown, fireworks exploding kind of smile. "Okay. Okay, then." His voice is low and pitched and quiet and humming with anticipation. "Kate, will you go out with me?"

Her smile is bursting and vibrant with delight and shy with the possibility of taking a chance. "Yeah. I will."

"Good." That's when he kisses her.

* * *

The event was black tie. A cream colored invitation announced the arrival of the newest Nikki Heat book in spidery gold calligraphy. Her name was engraved boldly, inviting her as a guest of honor. Castle had hesitantly handed it to her more than a month ago and had asked – looking nervous and adorable at the same time – if she would consider coming. She had accepted.

Kate took a deep breath and clutched Castle's arm a little too tightly. Castle had taken off his cast weeks ago so when he had offered his arm, she had graciously accepted. The press snapped pictures of the infamous couple, left right and center. She eyed the reporters like she would eye a deranged serial killer, suspicious and cautious.

"Relax. You look beautiful." Castle's breath caressed her ear, causing tingles to travel up and down her spine. Ever since that Barney Dumont had published that story on the trial– only briefly mentioning the actual trial and more focusing on the trial's impact on their supposed romantic relationship – they had faced a renewed amount of scrutiny on their relationship. That Barney had even included a blurry shot of her leaning close to kiss Castle on the cheek – a kiss; she'd been insisting to the boys ever since the story had been published, that had been strictly a platonic, thank-you kiss.

They had decided to keep their relationship a secret. For now, at least. Just until they could find their footing. Kate had worried that kissing him, touching him, would grow old, and lose their spark. But it was electric. Every time.

"Ever the charmer, aren't you?" She whispered back, glancing down at her dress for a discreet check up. The black lace flowed down her body and fell just below her knees. Her hair was pinned up into a bun with a few strategic strands framing her face, showcasing her neck and shoulders. All skin and lace, she'd seen Castle's reaction to her. Good thing too, since she had spent hours and a call to Lanie to pick out this outfit.

Whispers of 'Nikki Heat's here' and 'His muse is coming!' were starting to filter through as they made their way past the crowd. Flashes went off. His book signing for Frozen Heat was taking place in the Arcadia. The building featured Gothic ceilings and French windows. But most importantly, it featured an open bar. At least getting flat-out hammered was always an option.

"You see that guy over there? Bad mustache and way too many rings on his hand?" Castle pointed to an old man with a badly cut mustache and a cloud of white hair. "He's the head of Public Relations for the city. According to the grapevine, he has seven to one odds against him that he's gonna be sprouting daisies by the time the year's over. Morbid to think about but he's had the same bets on him dying for the last ten years. My opinion? He's not going away anytime soon."

He pointed to another man, this time wearing a pinstripe suit and chatting up a brunette near the bar. "That guy over there? He used to live with his mom until he was thirty two. Not because he had no money or anything; his parent's place was just near his favorite bar to pick up chicks."

She bit back a laugh, and then had said, "I've got one. That guy over there? He's the police commissioner." Wearing an off-the-rack suit and sporting a knock-off Rolex, he was easy to spot. "Heard he has a fetish for subways. Lab techs say that they've seen him do it in a subway car a couple times. "

"How about this?" Castle had scanned the people until his eyes lighted up on a man holding a cane and wearing a glass monocle. "That guy is a CEO for some big tech company."

"What's wrong with him?" Kate asked.

"Nothing." Castle responded, laughing. "He's just wearing a _monocle_. I didn't even know they still _made_ them anymore." She had burst out laughing and couldn't remember the last time when she had had so much fun at an event like this.

"By the way, Paula wants you on the stage with me when I make the speech." Castle told her as he handed her a glass of champagne. "For appearance's sake and all that. You might have to answer some questions too."

She took a sip of the champagne that probably cost more than her yearly salary and felt the liquid burn down her throat. "Okay. When are you on?"

Castle chances a glance up at the stage "Right… now."

Sure enough, a man dressed in a custom tailored suit that screamed rich and calfskin loafers that were buffed to the point of a mirror came onto the stage. His hair had enough hairspray in it to potentially wipe out the entire polar bear species. The man grabbed the mike and shouted, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank your presence here tonight. I'm pleased to welcome master of the macabre, the literary progeny of Poe himself, Richard Castle! Accompanying him is his exquisite muse, Detective Kate Beckett!"

Applause broke out as Castle and she walked up the stage. She stood slightly behind him when he started his speech. Castle smiled his thousand-watt smile at the audience, effectively capturing the attention of at least the female half of the crowd. He cleared his throat and took one last glance at his note cards. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for making the Nikki Heat series a success. I would like to thank…"

The words blurred in her ears, possibly because Castle had rehearsed it so many times in the car ride over here, so she spent most of her time looking at the people. So many tuxes and dresses. So many suck ups here only for appearance's sake.

She snapped back to the present just as Castle was finishing his speech. "… for your time. I hope you enjoy the party. If you have any questions you would like to ask Detective Kate Beckett, she would be happy to answer them." He stepped back and gestured for her to take the mike, grinning and mouthing _your turn_.

Groaning slightly and shooting him a look, she stepped up and fixed a polite smile on her face. "Yes, you?" She nodded at a slightly bookish man.

"Are the events in the Nikki Heat books real?"

"No, but some are based on real-life events. Such as some details on the cases, the motives, or – the characters." She swallowed uncomfortably – of course characters were based on real-life events, she _was_ the real-life event – and pointed to someone else in a pinstripe suit holding a glass of wine in his hand.

"Are the sex scenes based on 'real-life events'?" The man cackled, half-drunk and two minutes away from being arrested for public disturbance, and the crowd laughed along. She should have known someone would ask that.

Kate tapped the mike to grab their attention back before responding coolly, "That's a question for Mr. Castle, not me."

She called on another spectator, this time a buxom blonde wearing a revealing dress. "Last question. How about you?"

"Are you and Mr. Castle dating?" The blonde shot Castle a flirty wink, which prompted a mess of whistles and catcalls. The rest of the women looked very interested. Kate suddenly felt very hot around her collar and cleared her throat several times before answering.

"Mr. Castle and I are partners and I consider him one of my closest friends today."

"That was a great way to sidestep the question, detective," drawled the blonde. "But it was a yes or no question."

Kate's eyes widened slightly under the increased amount of pressure but other than that, she didn't show it. She had thought that she and Castle didn't act like a typical couple but, according to a brief chat with Lanie the other day, that wasn't true. The looks that passed between them were far from professional and their frequent touches – a hand resting on the small of her back, a brushing of fingertips when he presented her with her favorite coffee – only have increased since he'd asked her out. Her favorite one so far was when he played with her hair when they were alone. He would tuck back a strand behind her ear and she'd be thrumming with happiness inside.

Screw it. They've been going out for weeks now.

She turned her attention back to the audience, who was growing restless. "Yes, we are dating." And because she was feeling sassy and completely audacious that day, she twisted around to face Castle, marched over, and kissed him full on the mouth. Castle immediately reciprocated, winding his hands through her updo and pulling her closer to him. The crowd roared. Cameras flashed. Whistles and catcalls greeted them when they finally pulled apart.

Boy, was Lanie gonna have a fit.

* * *

I have to say, this took me a while to write. I must have rewritten it at least five times. Every time, I would look back on what I've typed up and think, this is terrible. How am I ever gonna write this? (Anyone else like that?) Hopefully, you guys liked it and I did Caskett justice.

One more chapter, I think. Then the story will be over. Thanks for reading. Review.


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